Time Fracture
by instant dragon
Summary: A distress call leads the Doctor to an Earth in ruins. Something has gone wrong with events on the global timeline with disastrous effect. The Doctor must identify the root cause and set it right, if he can. But at what price? Set between Kill the Moon and Mummy on the Orient Express.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Doctor, I'm not sure if you're alive or if this is even still a working number. Please come. We need your help. Please hear this message and come."

The video was choppy and the audio feed full of static, but the Doctor had no problem identifying his video caller as Kate Stewart, even though her appearance had changed drastically since the last time he'd seen her.

She was thin to the point of emaciation. There were several sores on her face. Her eyebrows were gone. One earlobe was noticeably gone. She'd shaved her hair, or perhaps it had fallen out. And yet, those deep brown eyes were as intelligent and fathomless as ever.

"Kate! What's happened?" The Doctor consulted his instruments and was relieved when he confirmed the TARDIS had already locked onto her location and time zone.

But Kate apparently couldn't hear his reply.

"Doctor, this is Kate Stewart of UNIT. Something terrible has happened." She smiled ironically and then coughed deeply.

"Well lots of terrible things have happened, but I think someone's been messing about with time." Kate turned to listen to someone standing behind her, nodded and then returned to the video call.

"Doctor, I'm not sure if you're alive or if this is even still a working number. Please come. We need your help. Please hear this message, and come."

The video fritzed out again and then returned.

"Doctor, this is Kate Stewart of UNIT. Something terrible has happened."

So it was a looping video. The Doctor listened all the way through two more times.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

Welcome to Time Fracture! My plan is to update every other week, occasionally more frequently. If you have a moment, please leave a review. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_**What happened at the end of Kill the Moon…**_

_**DOCTOR:**__ Well, I didn't do it for Courtney. I didn't know what was going to happen. Do you think I'm lying?_

_(Clara is crying with rage.)_

_**CLARA:**__ I don't know. I don't know. If you didn't do it for her, I mean. Do you know what? It was, it was cheap, it was pathetic. No, no, no. It was patronizing. That was you patting us on the back, saying, you're big enough to go to the shops by yourself now. Go on, toddle along._

_**DOCTOR:**__ No, that was me allowing you to make a choice about your own future. That was me respecting you.  
_

_**CLARA:**__ Oh, my God, really? Was it? Yeah, well, respected is not how I feel.  
_

_**DOCTOR:**__ Right. Okay. Er.  
_

_**CLARA:**__ I nearly didn't press that button. I nearly got it wrong. That was you, my friend, making me scared. Making me feel like a bloody idiot.  
_

_**DOCTOR:**__ Language.  
_

_**CLARA:**__ Oh, don't you ever tell me to mind my language. Don't you ever tell me to take the stabilizers off my bike. And don't you dare lump me in with the rest of all the little humans that you think are so tiny and silly and predictable. You walk our Earth, Doctor, you breathe our air. You make us your friend, and that is your moon too. And you can damn well help us when we need it.  
_

_**DOCTOR:**__ I was helping.  
_

_**CLARA: **__What, by clearing off?  
_

_**DOCTOR:**__ Yes.  
_

_**CLARA:**__ Yeah, well, clear off! Go on. You can clear off. Get back in your lonely, your lonely bloody Tardis and you don't come back.  
_

_**DOCTOR:**__ Clara. Clara.  
_

_**CLARA: **__You go away. Okay? You go a long way away.  
_

* * *

"Well, that went well, Doctor. Stupid, _stupid_ Doctor!"

The Doctor scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to process the stew of emotions as the TARDIS drifted aimlessly in the time vortex. He'd stepped in it again, and fully in it, judging from his human companion's reaction.

"But I really was trying to help!" He shouted toward the ceiling. The TARDIS remained obstinately mute on the subject, though the air was heavy with her opinion on the matter.

"I am useless."

He did consider popping ahead in Clara's timeline. A few months might be enough for her to get over it and maybe even grow to miss him. But he worried that this really was it. This was a thing Clara would not get over. Would not forgive him for. Ultimately, he decided to respect her wish for no contact and just hope that she had a change of heart.

He paced in a circle around the console. Then, he went to the upper level and walked a few circuits, still stewing. Still agonizing. Still angry, and guilty and ashamed and sorry. Time passed. The emotions didn't. It was like he'd developed a fault. What to do? What to do?

In his Academy days, this is where he would have turned to Borusa, or another mentor or council elder for advice. But Borusa, the council and the entire planet of Gallifrey was hidden away in a pocket universe somewhere, ultimately safe, but forever out of his reach.

In his Earth-bound days with UNIT, he might have asked his good friend, the Brigadier, where he had gone wrong. While Alistair Lethenbridge-Stewart was a man of an entirely different stripe and human to boot, he was an excellent source of feedback when it came to the Doctor's ham-handed attempts at human relations.

But Stewart had died, as humans do.

_I wish I had saluted him just once. _

"Karn. I will go to Karn."

That decided, the Doctor zipped down the stairs to the console and charted the course, never mind that he had no real reason to go to Karn, other than that there were immortals there, who at least might understand his reasoning, if not condone what he'd done. He supposed he was looking for absolution.

And once he'd been on Karn for only a few moments he regretted going. Ohila, as always, had things to say about his life choices.

"Why did you come here this time, Doctor? What did you expect? You are the one who chooses humans as your companions. They grow to rely on you. How could they not? It was unfair for you to put them in that position. You have interfered too much in Earth's affairs. Now you have a responsibility. Which you ran from. Again."

How irksome. And regrettably true.

From Karn, he went to Victorian London and spent some time with Madam Vastra, Jenny and Strax, mucking in on a few cases. Vastra asked why he was there and why he was alone. He didn't answer. He stayed with them for a few Earth weeks, licking his wounds, until he grew restless.

He left without saying goodbye and set the TARDIS controls to random, hoping the sentient time machine would take him somewhere with a good distraction to keep those still seething emotions at bay. It was then that he received the looping video from Kate Lethenbridge-Stewart from 1 January 2026, London, England.

Yes, he wanted a distraction, but this?

* * *

**15 December, 2014**

"What's bothering you, dear? You're not yourself."

Clara smiled. No matter how much she tried, she could never fool her gran.

"It's nothing, Gran."

"Well, clearly it is something. Or someone."

It was like clairvoyance.

"Is that Danny Pink giving you trouble?"

"No, Gran, Danny's good. Really. Everything's fine. I'm just a bit,"

[bored]

"distracted," Clara finished.

Gran squeezed her shoulder.

"I'm always here for you, you know. You should come round more often. Your father would like that, and so would I."

Clara kissed Gran's cheek.

"I know, Gran, and I will. The school break is coming up and then I will have more time. We should plan an outing."

And all _was_ well with Danny Pink. On Friday they celebrated the three-month anniversary of that cataclysmic first date with a trip back to the same restaurant. They went out at least once a week or stayed in for romantic dinners or less romantic grading marathons as they neared end of term. It was all very nice and normal. And predictable. And boring.

_I miss the Doctor. I'm still angry with him, and I was right when I told him off, but I do miss him. And Danny was right, I don't hate him. _

To fill the void left by the removal of the Doctor from her life, Clara threw herself into extracurriculars. She resurrected the school literary anthology and consigned a half dozen of her year 11 students as an editorial staff. She partnered up with Tobias, another English teacher, to put on a one-act play of Cyrano de Bergerac. In retrospect, the production was over-complicated, fraught with an angsty hormonal student cast with the typical drama and discord, and came off badly on the final night, but it kept Clara busy. She made sure rehearsals were on Wednesday afternoons, so she didn't have time to think about how she used to spend her Wednesdays going on adventures with the Doctor.

With such a full life, Clara still found herself feeling oddly lonely. Lying in bed at night, she often replayed her last argument with the Doctor. _I was right to do it. I _was_._

So why did she feel so guilty?

* * *

The Doctor ran into difficulty when he tried to land at the origin of Kate's message. The TARDIS's interior lighting switched to amber and the Doctor heard an alarm he'd only experienced once before. Pulling one of the monitors over, the Doctor saw only static on the screen until it was replaced by an error message that said **TEMPORAL DISTURBANCE** and then **TIMELINE INSTABILITY** and then **TIMELINE CORRUPTION**.

None of those sounded like good things.

He replayed the video message from Kate. He studied the data log and then did calculations to arrive three minutes before the message was sent. He got the same error messages.

Next, he backed it up to five minutes before the transmission. Still no change.

The Doctor proceeded to back up his arrival by five-minute intervals until he was finally able to land. The instruments showed he had arrived two weeks before Kate sent the message.

"Finally! Thanks, Sexy." He patted the TARDIS console lovingly.

Before exiting the TARDIS, he checked the monitor and saw the same interference that showed before the message displayed. He entered a few commands on the keypad to access environmental data for the area immediately surrounding the TARDIS.

Apparently, he'd landed in a broom cupboard on the third floor of the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel. It was 18 December 2025, 6:00 PM local time. Oxygen levels were at 19%, just below what was considered safe for human life in the 21st century. The Doctor saw little to no evidence of local electrical activity, very odd for a hospital. And then the kicker: Gamma radiation levels were well outside of normal background radiation for 21st century Earth.

"But I'm in hospital, so perhaps it's from their imaging equipment."

He knew the readings were too high to come from 21st century Earth imaging equipment. The readings were still barely within safe levels for himself, but any humans exposed to those levels for more than a few minutes would certainly sustain damage.

"So apparently, something went nuclear. Now, where are you, Kate Stewart?"

The Doctor pulled up her biodata extract and initiated a London-wide search. Since it was two weeks before her message, she could be anywhere, even outside of London or even out of the country.

Fortunately, the search pinpointed her location to the basement level of the hospital. The Doctor pulled up a building schematic and began plotting his route.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**_18 December 2025, Royal London Hospital_**

The Doctor opted to leave the TARDIS where it landed rather than materialize right near Kate's location in the basement. The walk would give him a better idea of what had happened to cause such drastic changes, and he'd rather not materialize into an unknown situation that might prove even more dangerous.

He exited the TARDIS wearing a lightweight radiation suit and carrying a haversack with an array of tools and supplies that might be useful, given the conditions. Instead of using his sonic to light the way he opted for a more conventional torch. He was glad of his choice immediately. The hospital was black as pitch.

The route to the stairwell had sustained significant damage recently, whether from a natural disaster or a man-made event was unclear. The hallway was an obstacle course of debris from a ceiling collapse. The Doctor shined his torch on an overturned gurney and wondered what would produce a strong enough force to knock over such a heavy object while the walls were still, at least in this hallway, intact. Perhaps someone had turned it on its side to use as a barrier, if there had been some kind of skirmish.

As he moved further down the corridor, he became aware of the strong smell of human waste. Perhaps the toilets were not working. The ventilation system certainly wasn't, with the power off.

He found the entrance to the stairwell partially blocked by more debris, this time broken cinderblock, a ballast from a lighting fixture and an overturned food cart. He managed to shift enough of it to access the stairwell.

Shining the light down the stairs, the Doctor confirmed that it seemed intact before he began his descent. The smell of waste was less noticeable here; in its place there was a musty smell, as if the stairwell had been flooded at some point. His footsteps echoed on the stairs.

After lifetimes of adventures on hundreds of worlds, many of them on this world, with every imaginable dark cave, ghost town, battlefield, graveyard or even haunted house, the Doctor was not one to fall into superstitious paranoia. But in the musty dark of the stairwell, he couldn't ignore the feeling he was being watched. Watched, and perhaps followed.

He paused when he reached the next landing. In the absence of his own footsteps he heard the echo of someone else's. From the sound, his observer was one flight above him, and considerably lighter than he was.

"I know you're there, you can come out," he said, shining his torch up the stairs he'd just descended. After a few moments of hesitation, A shadow split off from the gloom and approached the top of the stairs.

His observer was a little over four feet tall and wearing a radiation suit. One of the sleeves of the suit was pinned up at the elbow—the wearer was missing his or her right forearm. The observer held a rubber plumber's mallet defensively in his or her left hand. The observer's face was not visible through the shadows and the hood of the radiation suit.

"It's okay. No need to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help."

The observer descended one cautious step and then paused.

"Who are you? Where did you come from?"

The observer's voice was squeaky with either fear or puberty, probably both. Nonetheless, the Doctor decided this was an adolescent boy. The Doctor climbed one stair. The boy did not retreat.

"My name is the Doctor. I've come here looking for a friend, Kate Stewart. She's with UNIT. She asked me to come. Do you know her?" The observer made a relieved gasping sound and his shoulders relaxed. He lowered the mallet and descended the stairs.

"_You're _the Doctor? You don't look like I expected." Given the many faces he'd worn throughout his lives, the Doctor bristled a little.

"Well, what were you expecting, then?"

The boy studied him openly. The Doctor shined his torch under the faceplate of the radiation suit to accentuate his hawk like countenance. Regeneration was a lottery. The true secret to living successfully through multiple lives was recognizing and leveraging the unique features one ended up with. While originally disappointed in the perpetually cross eyebrows, the Doctor had come to revel in the amount of gravitas he could command through the severity of his gaze.

"I dunno. The way Kate talks about you I thought you'd look like a superhero or a mad scientist. Or both. You know, like Doctor Strange." Now that the boy was closer, the Doctor thought he was younger than his original estimate, perhaps twelve.

"Well who are you, then?"

"I'm Peter."

"Not Peter Parker of Spiderman fame?"

"Who?"

_How embarrassing. _"Never mind."

"C'mon, I'll take you to Kate." The Doctor stepped closer and shined the light of the torch under the hood of Peter's radiation suit.

He was a young boy with ginger hair and freckles. A painful looking bruise stood out on his right cheekbone. It was hard to read Peter's expression in the shadows, but the Doctor thought he looked wary. Understandable.

Peter took the lead in descending the rest of the stairs, the rubber mallet slung casually over his shoulder.

"So, Peter, what happened here? And why are you alone in a London hospital with a plumber's mallet?"

"You don't know? You come from the future. I thought you'd know all about it." The Doctor bristled again. What had Kate been telling this kid?

"I'm not 'from the future', exactly; I'm a time traveler. It doesn't mean I'm omniscient. You've been reading too many comic books, Pete, they're melting your brain."

"I don't read comic books. Nobody reads comics anymore. Before all this I played 3D holo games."

"Whatever. Answer my question."

"Which one?"

"What happened?" They'd reached the end of the stairs. Peter opened the door that would take them out into the basement.

"It's a long story. Better if Kate tells you. I don't really understand it. There was a war. A lot of people died, including my parents and sister. We're what's left."

* * *

He saw her as they turned a corner and entered an area of the basement with dim lighting. Apparently they had a generator, or some other means of producing electricity. Kate sat at what looked like an old receptionist's desk, her boot-clad feet propped up on the desk's surface. She was not wearing a radiation suit, but several suits hung from a hook on the wall directly behind the desk.

She was slouched down in the office-style chair, her head turned to the side, asleep. A large green book that looked like an accountant's ledger or perhaps a journal, lay face-down across her lap.

As in the video, her hair was cropped short. The Doctor noted a sore over her lip and another at her right temple. She was very thin, but perhaps not as thin as she looked in the video.

The Doctor's observation of Kate Stewart was interrupted by the sound of Peter unzipping the hood of his radiation suit and taking it off. His ginger hair was damp from the condensation inside the suit. The Doctor admired how deftly the boy managed the task with just one hand.

"You can take your suit off now, it's safe down here." Peter gestured toward Kate. "She's off shift. Best to let me wake her," he whispered.

The boy approached Kate quietly. He gently shook her shoulder. "Kate, the Doctor's come."

The UNIT Chief Scientific Officer startled awake, immediately drawing a pistol and training it on the Doctor. The Doctor raised his hands above his head.

"You're not the Doctor." She looked uncertain, though, as if she'd seen him before.

"Yes, I am. I know you haven't seen this face before. I got a message from your future self, asking me to come. Hi Kate." He smiled winningly. She raised the gun higher, holding it with both hands, pointed toward his chest. Her aim was steady.

"Prove you're the Doctor. Tell me something only he would know."

The Doctor searched his memory. It was always a little difficult to access memories from other regenerations. Time passed. Kate's finger tightened on the trigger.

"The last time you saw me I jumped through a painting into the year 1572. Among other things."

Kate's arms relaxed. "Thank God, Doctor. I was hoping you would come but had no way of getting a message out to you. Our infrastructure is in tatters, I'm afraid. When did you change your face?"

"That's not important right now. About two weeks from now you called me for help. Please tell me what's happened."


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**

Here is a long chapter for your reading pleasure. You will see some references to recent historic events here and likely throughout the rest of this story, in one form or another. I promise not to go too deep, and not to delve into actual politics or present a political point of view. This is a work of fiction, as well, so please don't construe anything here as purely factual.

**Chapter 3**

**18 December, 2025**

"There was a nuclear event. You probably already guessed that. Britain wasn't involved. We were part of the collateral damage."

They had moved to a makeshift operations center in the middle of the large hospital basement. Peter worked over a little Primus stove to brew tea while Kate and the Doctor sat at a battered card table and talked.

On the walk to the operations center the Doctor heard the chugging of what sounded like several generators in a maintenance cupboard. Thick orange power cords extended out from underneath the door. So that answered the question of where they were getting their power.

"How did it happen?"

"Good question. The details were pretty sketchy, but we think it was human error, initially. The United States was performing routine training exercises in South Korea. A Russian satellite picked up the activity and somehow it got interpreted by Russia and North Korea as an act of aggression. There was an exchange of conventional missiles. Things escalated from there. In the end, all of the NATO countries received either direct hits, or residual effects that moved through the atmosphere.

"The true number of global casualties is unknown. Here in London, before things really fell apart, we were in the hundreds of thousands. Now it must be higher than that. Those who survived are below ground, where the radiation is still at near normal levels."

The Doctor's quick scan on his sonic confirmed Kate's assessment of the radiation levels in the basement.

"We have about thirty people at this location, not including the sick or wounded. We have an improvised med bay the next level down with about 50 patients, give or take. Fortunately, we have among the survivors a surgeon, a physician and a nurse practitioner. They were all on staff here at Royal London.

"We send scavenger and rescue crews out daily, but the rescue crews haven't found any new survivors in a few days. There are other pockets of survivors throughout the London underground and in other large buildings with subterranean levels. Some are more well organized and provisioned than others."

"Are the thirty with you all UNIT operatives?"

Kate coughed painfully and then smiled ironically. "Only three of us are UNIT, that's Osgood, Jax and I. The rest are survivors we rescued, or who found us. But by now, everyone is a veteran."

The Doctor thought through everything Kate had told him so far. He knew she could probably give him more details about the war, casualty count and state of London, but he decided to shift things in another direction.

"In the message I got from your future self you said you thought someone was messing about with time. What makes you think that?"

Kate at first looked like she didn't understand the question.

"I said someone was messing with time? Interesting. That would make sense, though."

And the Doctor realized that his presence here likely changed or eliminated that original moment when Kate sent him the video message in the first place. _Another bootstrap paradox to my credit_, he thought.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, it's curious. I remember events in two different ways. At the first news of a missile exchange, I thought, 'that can't be right.' But naturally I would think that. No one could believe it. But the feeling of certainty I had was really weird."

Kate coughed into her hand and had a sip of water from a military style canteen before continuing. With the degree of damage to the environment and loss of infrastructure, the Doctor surmised they were boiling their water or otherwise treating it to limit contamination. At least, he hoped they were.

"Why would Russia and North Korea launch an assault without provocation? The US has a big enough arsenal to take out Korea about a hundred times over. It didn't make much sense.

"And then as time went on and things escalated, that sense of non-belief increased. In the morning when I first awoke, I would remember the recent past differently. In those few moments, the war never happened. Things were tense but peaceful among the nuclear powers.

"But then, once I was fully awake, the current reality would set in again. I thought maybe I was dreaming about a different reality as an escape from the present circumstances. But then someone else mentioned they were having the same experience.

"I started actively questioning people. We were all having the same dreams or recollections of a different course of events."

_How exciting_, the Doctor thought. He tried to school his features to hide his enthusiasm for such an obvious symptom of timeline corruption.

"Can you write those down for me?"

Kate smiled tiredly. "I already have. Osgood and I interviewed over 100 survivors and pieced together a different sequence of events. In the course of doing that, it became clear that the differences started long before the armed conflict broke out. I will show you in a bit."

"Is there still active fighting?"

"No, at least we don't think so. We lost communications early on. As far as we've been able to ascertain, we have no acting government and no means of communicating with the outside world. London's been a shambles. It took a long time for me to locate and recall a handful of UNIT operatives."

"Recall?"

"Oh yes, Doctor. UNIT was defunded three years ago under a liberal government. That's another area where we suspect there was a different reality. I remember working with the team on a number of alien incursions during the time since UNIT was disbanded. I even remember you being here for two of them, and now that you're here, I'm sure it was you in your current incarnation, even though I didn't recognize you when you arrived here today." She rubbed her forehead. "It's that shadow memory thing again."

The Doctor had no recollection of seeing Kate since he regenerated. Curious. Of course, Kate might have been working with his future self, and that would explain why he didn't remember it. Or, perhaps he was also suffering the effects of the timeline disruption.

"Osgood and I stayed together and moved into the private sector as consultants."

"Interesting. How did that work out?"

"Badly."

The Doctor decided to move away from that topic.

Just then, Peter brought over a pot of tea and three mugs. They took a minute to organize their beverages. The Doctor asked for sugar, but sadly, there was none. Regrettably, he had not packed any in the haversack sitting at the foot of the table. He settled for Kate's offered teaspoon of tinned condensed milk.

The Doctor studied Peter, who was seated across from him and to Kate's left. His missing right arm was noticeable, the fresh stump ending just above the elbow.

"And what's your story, Peter? How did you end up with Kate and Osgood and the others?"

The boy blushed a little and didn't make eye contact. He didn't answer. Kate answered for him, her voice weighted with quiet compassion.

"He doesn't like to talk about that. We pulled him from the wreckage of a collapsed underground station. He wasn't conscious. His arm was beyond salvation. Luckily, that was the worst of it. His parents and sister were already gone."

Peter finally looked up and met the Doctor's gaze. His eyes shined with unshed tears.

"But it's weird, because I know they're still alive. It's like what Kate said about remembering things differently. I know they're gone. I saw them die. But I'm also sure they're still alive. I feel the same way about my arm. But Osgood says people who lose a limb often feel like it's still there for a while. Sometimes for the rest of their lives."

The Doctor made a mental note to observe the boy and assess the degree of his phantom limb syndrome. If it truly was PLS, he could easily fix it. If it was an effect of whatever was going on with the timeline, that was another matter.

* * *

After tea, Kate led the Doctor into a separate room within the basement with Peter in tow. The room was well lit. The Doctor smiled when he saw Osgood seated at a desk and peering into a laptop, her nose inches from the screen.

"Osgood, we've got company. Believe it or not, this is the Doctor. Do you remember this regeneration?"

The UNIT scientist stood to greet them, studying the Doctor's face carefully before she responded. "No. And also yes. Hello Doctor, glad you found us."

"I had a message."

The Doctor thought Osgood looked slimmer and paler than the last time he'd seen her. Her glasses were broken at the nosepiece and repaired with silver duct tape. Instead of her customary lab coat and striped scarf, she wore cargo pants and a ratty jumper.

"You've explained about the phenomena?" Osgood asked Kate.

"Yes, he knows the basics. Can you walk us through it?"

Osgood smiled. "Sure."

Instead of sitting back at the laptop, she walked over to the far wall of the room, which was covered with yellow and blue stickie notes. The notes had thumb tacks in them. Two different colors of twine were wrapped around the thumbtacks, travelling from one sticky note to another, forming a network of connected notes.

"The yellow notes are the timeline as it currently stands, going back to 2016. The blue ones are the shadow memories we all agree upon. Working backwards from where we are now, we pieced things together to the first significant event that diverged from what we are all remembering as an alternate sequence of events. The first divergence we've isolated is the French election on 7 May of 2016. In our current reality, the National Front candidate won in a landslide. In the other version of events, there was actually a runoff election between the top two candidates, and the République En Marche! Candidate won with a narrow margin.

"The next critical event was England's vote to remain in the European Union, which happened on 13 June 2016. In the other version of events, the Brexit vote resulted in a decision to leave the EU, followed by the PM stepping down and the subsequent two PMs in a very difficult three-year period working toward and achieving the exit. From there things branch out exponentially, as you can imagine. I can walk you through that, but I think it makes more sense to focus on the earlier critical events that may have caused a knock-on effect."

"I agree," the Doctor said, privately admiring the approach Kate and Osgood employed to chronicle the two versions of events. _But this is really Osgood's work_, the Doctor mused. _Osgood's mind. Kate is the strategist, but Osgood is the one who sweats the details and makes the connections._ Not for the first time, the Doctor thought of the possibilities that might arise if he took Osgood on an adventure. _Not now, obviously_, he thought, but he filed it away for later consideration.

"After that, and this is a big one, I think, The United States general election on 8 November of 2016. In our version of events, the election was narrowly won by the progressive liberal candidate running on the Democratic ticket. In the other version of events, a nationalist Republican candidate did not win the popular vote but did win through the Electoral College. In that version of events, what followed was four years of growing tension between the two political parties and also between the United States and its allies, world-wide economic volatility, and war – but not _this_ war. There was an intense trade war between China and US, a disinformation war between the US and Russia and one unfortunate military altercation between the US and Iran that led to an escalation of tensions in the Middle East. There was never a nuclear exchange.

"Germany's election was 24 September 2017 and in our reality the SCP candidate won. In the other version of events, the CSU candidate won. Overall, that doesn't appear to have had a huge bearing on the sequence of events that led to the current state of affairs."

Kate picked up the narrative from there.

"In our reality the progressive US leadership focused on the environment and health care and put less energy into diplomacy with Russia, North Korea and the Middle East. North Korea worked diligently to develop its nuclear program in spite of existing sanctions from the US and NATO.

"Things fell apart too fast to say for sure, but it's likely that Russia assisted North Korea in those efforts. Finally, Russia identified United States routine training maneuvers in South Korea as an act of war and that's when the missiles flew. Any questions?"

"Impressive work! What you've laid out here as the current reality isn't jiving with my recollection of those years. What you have on the blue stickies sounds much more familiar to me. I would have to check the TARDIS data banks to be sure, but I agree that something's gone amiss."

Osgood seemed to relax visibly. "That's a relief! You're from outside of this system, so if you're seeing it, that means we're not all experiencing shared post-traumatic paranoia. Do you have any theories on why things have gone a different route? Are we, for example, in a parallel universe?"

The Doctor could tell that Osgood was excited at the prospect of somehow being in a parallel universe and aware of what was going on in the sister universe. He stood and examined the network carefully, tracing out the two discrete timelines. Osgood and Kate waited on tenterhooks. Kate coughed painfully and had another sip from her canteen. Peter heard a noise in the main part of the basement and left the room.

"While a parallel universe is an interesting theory, I think it is more likely that something caused an adjustment to a critical event that altered the course of history. The fact that you all have this double memory tells me that the adjustment to the timeline, or the paradox, if you will, has caused enough entropy that the two timelines are crossing over each other. You're right. The war should not have happened. And yet, it did."

"What can we do, Doctor?" Kate asked. "If something went awry, is there a way to right it, or are we doomed to this version of events?"

Peter returned, nibbling on what looked and smelled like a peanut butter sandwich. The Doctor weighed his answer before replying.

"This looks like a serious aberration in Earth's timeline. It may even extend beyond Earth. You've done a great job of cataloguing the known aberrations, and that's the first step. Next, I will take what you have and put it in front of an expert in these things."

"What kind of expert?" Osgood asked. "Can't you just run things through your TARDIS data bank?"

"It's not that simple, Osgood, since apparently I am part of events. If I wasn't before, I am now because I came here today. That means my TARDIS is part of events, as well. Only an objective observer will be able to confirm what the true reality is, and what went wrong. I'm going to bring the problem to a timeline auditor."

Osgood made a harsh laughing noise. "You mean like an accountant, only of time?"

The Doctor considered Osgood's question.

"Yes, that's very close. There's a planet in the Cygnus constellation called Sagacity – at least, that's how the name translates into English. You lot only recently discovered it and named it Kepler-452b.

"This is the home of the Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight. They're time scholars. The Collaborative is dedicated to studying time on a universal scale and identifying anomalies." The Doctor cleared his throat nervously.

"There is also an enforcement side to the Collaborative. They intervene when a violation of time travel laws occurs."

"But Doctor, I thought that was the role of the time lords. Are they involved in Sagacity at all?" Kate asked.

The Doctor laughed. "It _is_ the role of the time lords. The time lords founded the Universal Collaborative. Way, way, way back in the day. Over time, though, the Collaborative became a shared venture with all species that use time travel. Think of it as the United Nations of time travel."

"But I thought that Gallifrey was gone, Doctor. Are there still time lords on Sagacity?"

The Doctor felt a lump form in his throat. In all the time since he and his other incarnations hid Gallifrey in a pocket universe, it had never occurred to him to visit Sagacity and see if any time lords remained.

"Possibly. Probably. In their final years at the Academy, time lords do a mandatory rotation on Sagacity, to get practice auditing time and policing the laws of time travel. At least that's the way it used to work."

Where a few minutes before the Doctor was dreading the idea of going to Sagacity and presenting this problem due to his questionable status from a temporal law enforcement perspective, now he found himself wanting to depart as quickly as possible in hopes of discovering even a token few fellow time lords, possibly even someone he knew or was distantly related to.

Osgood was back at the laptop taking notes, no doubt capturing these newfound tidbits about time lords and the Universal Collaborative in her already impressive file on him.

"So, let's say you go to Sagacity and have them look into it. What happens next?" She asked.

"Well, the auditor will study the timeline, similarly to what you did here, only on a much larger scale. Through that process, the auditor will hopefully pinpoint the exact incident that caused the shift in events. Once that's done, I will go back to that point in time and set it to rights." _If possible,_ the Doctor added in his head. _If I can get there before the Reapers. And if I don't get arrested._

The Doctor had Osgood pull up the file that held what they'd mapped out on the wall and uploaded it onto his sonic.

"What will happen to us, though?" Peter asked. "Will we just wink out of existence? Or will we wake up on the other time stream and go on, business as usual? Will we remember any of this reality at all? Will my parents be alive again? Will I have my arm back? Will I still know Kate and Osgood and Jax and the rest of our group?"

The Doctor resisted an impulse to ruffle the boy's hair, or perhaps hug him.

"Those are all great questions, Peter, and there are a lot of variables that affect what happens from there. In the best circumstances, you're back in the 'correct' reality and don't remember anything from your time on this faulty timeline."

_Of course,_ the Doctor thought, but didn't say, _being on the correct timeline may not mean that your family is alive, or you didn't lose your arm. Or that you even survived._

"But before I go, I brought a few things I thought might be useful."

* * *

Kate and the Doctor returned to the card table in the operations center while Peter and Osgood checked in with a salvage crew that returned while they were going over the timelines. Cooking smells of beans and tinned meat pervaded the air. The Doctor was glad to have some time alone with Kate.

"Kate, have you had any word of Clara?"

Kate broke eye contact for a moment. When she returned her gaze the look of compassion on her face caused the Doctor's stomach to clench uncomfortably.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor. Clara was one of the first people Osgood and I searched for in the aftermath. Clara was on one of the early lists of English casualties, before official communications broke down. Coal Hill School was flattened by a Russian smart bomb during school hours. There were no survivors."

He turned away, taking time to master his reaction. He felt Kate's hand on his shoulder.

All the more reason to get this set to rights, post haste, he thought, while studying the top of the card table, looking for a distraction from the intense feelings of remorse and grief. Then he noticed a curiously familiar object – the large green book that had been across Kate's lap when he and Peter arrived and found her asleep.

"What's this book, Kate? I remember it from somewhere."

Kate smiled tiredly and placed a hand on top of the book.

"You have a good memory, Doctor. It's my father's journal. He wrote in it throughout his UNIT years. There are many accounts of his adventures with you in here."

The Doctor felt a strong wave of nostalgia as he remembered that book's special place on the corner of the Brigadier's desk, under a tin cup full of pens and pencils. He'd never looked in it, but knew it was something of special importance to the UNIT chief.

"Good old Brigadier."

"It's one of the few things I took with me when things fell apart. I read it most nights. It helps me sleep."

* * *

"These are radiation stabilizers," the Doctor retrieved the twelve stabilizers from the rucksack and placed them on the table. Kate picked one up and examined it.

"What do they do?" she asked.

"They detect high levels of gamma radiation and neutralize it. Twelve should be enough for the basement. Set them around the perimeter, equidistant from each other. If I had more, I would give them to you to use on the lower level or share with other communities. If I come by more of them I will find a way to get them to you."

The Doctor was nearly certain that if he tried he would be unable to do so due to the corrupt timeline that prevented him from arriving at the time of Kate's original message. However, his act of coming here might have altered things enough to make a return trip possible. In the Doctor's millennia as a time traveler, he'd learned to trust his instincts and keep his options open.

"Do you have to turn them on? Change a filter? Anything?"

"No. Nothing. Just make sure they stay placed evenly around the perimeter. Don't let Peter or anyone else play with them."

Kate grasped his forearm.

"Doctor, take Peter with you." The Doctor realized he should have seen this coming.

"Kate, I don't think that's a good idea." But the UNIT chief science officer's intense gaze penetrated the Doctor's defenses.

"Look, things are getting worse here, not better. The radiation is increasing outside. We have no fresh food. No livestock. We're all getting weaker, sicker. A twelve-year-old boy shouldn't live in a basement. He's lost so much. Please, get him out of this for a little while. We'll still be here – I hope – when you come back."

How could he say no?

And that's how after giving Kate a supply of radiation sickness tablets, a case of nutritious rations and an advanced high capacity water purifier, the Doctor and Peter said their goodbyes to Kate and Osgood before donning their radiation suits, leaving the basement and ascending the stairs back to where the TARDIS waited on the third floor.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

Thanks for the favorites, follows and reviews! Here's a nice long chapter for the weekend. A special nod to readers in the UK and the EU on this historic day as the UK leaves the EU. Best wishes for all as we step forward into what's next.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_**23 June 2016, the day of the Brexit Referendum Vote**_

She picked a fight with Danny on their way home from the polling station. It had a been a very long day. Here they were participating in a historic decision for England, and with all that as a backdrop she decided today was the day she needed to let him know she didn't appreciate his patronizing comments when he introduced her to an old school friend of his that they ran into over the weekend.

Of course, that wasn't really what the argument was about, whether Danny knew it or not.

That led to tense minutes of sniping at one another on the walk to the tube and on the ride once they boarded the train, finally leading to Danny getting off at his stop instead of hers.

Mission accomplished.

The truth was, Clara really did love Danny. Her Gran often said, especially when Clara and her father had just had a row, or when Clara was crying over a best friend who had treated her badly, "We always seem to treat those that we're closest to worse than everybody else." And Clara knew that was the dynamic here but seemed helpless to stop herself.

Over the past few years, it felt like her life had been gradually taken over by an insidious parasitic infection that made her say yes to everything and conform as much as possible. Before Danny, Clara had known herself and was spoken of by others as an intelligent, confident, assertive, decisive woman. One to be reckoned with. Even a two-thousand-year-old time lord could not buffalo her into submission.

But it seemed as if when she decided to have a real go at the relationship with Danny, Clara began operating in a dumbed down state driven by fear of not being accepted by him. Of losing him.

And the sad part was that no one in Clara's life seemed to notice. Her father and Gran said on more than one occasion how happy they were that Clara had finally settled down with a nice man. Gran hadn't done it yet, but Clara knew it wouldn't be long before she started asking if they'd talked of marriage yet.

She'd been doing things because of how they looked to others—Gran, her father, Armitage at Coal Hill School, the parents of her students, and Danny. Most importantly, Danny. After telling off the Doctor after their final adventure to the moon with Courtney, she really thought he would eventually come back. But then he didn't.

Left back in her day to day human life with no Doctor and no Wednesday afternoon adventure through time and space to look forward to, Clara decided she needed to turn over a new leaf and embrace what Danny had to offer, no matter the cost. If the Doctor were looking on, Clara thought, he would wonder what alien imposter had taken over her place in the world, and where it had stowed the original. She realized now that she let fear of losing Danny drive her for far too long.

Over time she grew more and more uncomfortable – both with Danny and even more so with herself. Clara caught herself saying or doing things to sabotage their relationship while at the same time desperately trying to be the woman she thought Danny wanted her to be.

And that was the central issue that really triggered today's argument. On the walk to the tube station Danny had brought up the topic of their upcoming holiday to Nicé for Bastille Day. The trip was originally Clara's idea, but now she had an increasing fear that he was going to use the trip to propose to her, and she had to find a way to say no.

_What are you doing, Clara? _She'd asked herself this question so many times. _Doctor, why didn't you come back?_

Danny was a solid Remain vote on the Brexit question, had shared his rationale for that position many times with Clara, and Clara had agreed, at least outwardly. The more he discounted the position of friends and colleagues in the Leave camp, the more reluctant Clara was to discuss politics with him at all.

But today was a turning point. After countless hours watching and discussing news coverage of the Brexit decision with Danny and many others and going along with their perspective on things, Clara had entered the private voting booth, sloughed off the thick carapace of compliance and passivity, and voted with her heart.

* * *

_**From the journal of Brigadier Alistair Lethenbridge-Stewart**_

_**8 May 1968**_

_I had the most extraordinary adventure these last few days. The chaps and I were down in London to address an unusual occurrence. The underground kept filling up with a web-like substance. Very odd. Turns out it was an alien species called "ice warriors" trying to take over the planet. Nearly succeeded, too. I lost some good men today and would have snuffed it for sure myself if it weren't for this curious bloke who showed up in the nick of time. Calls himself "the Doctor," but he doesn't look or act like any physician I know._

_I've suspected there was life on other planets, and now it's confirmed. The ice warriors are Martians, according to the Doctor. And although he looks human, the Doctor himself is something else entirely._

_Heading back to Bristol tonight by rail. We're lucky the trains are up and running again after this fiasco._

_**21 December 1968**_

_Talks went well in Geneva, and I am on my way back to London by rail. It's been a busy week, and I haven't had time to pause and think, much less write in this journal. UNIT is solidifying as an international organization, but the political dynamics are still a bit of a challenge. It helped that we managed to tie up a crucial investigation right before I left for the Geneva summit, so England had a significant victory to report. As a result, I secured additional funding for our operation._

_We were getting very close to the turning point with UNIT surveillance of International Electromatics (EI), when who should walk right into the mix but the Doctor – that bloke I met during the ice warrior incursion back in May of this year. He was still traveling with Jamie and Zoe – no idea what these young people see in him, but then again, he can be charming enough when it suits him. Frankly, I was worried that he might undo months' worth of work, but the Doctor smelled a rat right away and proved deucedly useful. _

_I wish I could say the same for his companions. Like typical young people these days, they ignored instructions to stay out of the sewers and instead put themselves right in harm's way. Zoe and Victoria, the daughter of Professor Edward Travers wanted pictures of the cybermen as proof of their existence. Jamie just went along. I lost a man over it, so I can't say I was any too pleased with their photos, which looked staged and unconvincing. _

_I had a word with the Doctor about it, but he failed to see his responsibility to shape these young people and make them mind their elders. I'm beginning to think he's a bit of a rebel himself. Still, he's clever like a fox, and I'm not sure what would have happened if he hadn't been close to hand. UNIT England has come a long way under my leadership, but cybermen are new to our experience. Benton added them to our growing catalogue of outside threats._

_I'm out in the Hampshires for a fortnight with Doris and Kate. It will be good to set aside all of these competing priorities and get reacquainted with my daughter. Poor Doris – she's been a trooper and thank goodness her Mum is nearby and willing to lend a hand. I turn forty at the end of the month, and I am feeling old. Some dedicated family time is just the ticket._

* * *

_**Earth, Royal London Hospital**_

_**02:00, 19 December 2025**_

Kate walked the length of the basement, her torch pointed discretely toward the ceiling so as not to awaken any sleeping group members. It was 2 AM, and other than Jax, who was guarding the basement entrance, Kate was the only person up and about.

It was a recurring nightmare that got her up and patrolling the basement. In the dream, Kate woke up to the sound of something moving stealthily through the sleeping area. In the dream, she rose and followed the sound, her pistol drawn.

After a while of following the sound, she heard other furtive noises followed by a scream at the entrance to the basement. She ran to the source of the scream to find it was Osgood in the grips of what could only be described as a zombie. The woman with her hands around Osgood's throat was very dead, skin white and hanging off of her, covered in sores. The overwhelming smell of decomposition made Kate gag.

She sobbed as she stared at the horror in front of her. Osgood, glasses askew, neck bent at an unnatural angle, already dead. Her eyes were still open and seeming to stare accusingly at Kate.

Another scream from behind her snapped her out of her shocked trance. There were other zombies. They were infiltrated. And how could you kill the dead?

When she startled awake, bathed in sweat, there was no going back to sleep. She was just grateful she hadn't screamed and roused everyone else.

Not surprising that she'd had that nightmare. It had been a long and eventful day.

After the Doctor left, she'd assembled the group for the daily post-dinner briefing. Jax reported out from the salvage team. The big find of the day was two full trays of bread and a case of frozen chicken they found in a part of the city that still had power. It was in a grocery store that had its cold storage in the basement, making the food measurably safer due to less exposure to high doses of radiation than what one might find at the ground floor.

Other than that, they acquired additional petrol stores which would ensure a few more days' worth of generator time. While they were still looking for a communications set-up that was old enough to work without the Internet, they had so far been unsuccessful.

Dr. Harrison reported on the patient census and status from the ward on the lower level. Two patients were near death from radiation poisoning and a third had developed post-operative sepsis and was not expected to survive. He handed off a list of critical supplies to the salvage team.

Bradley gave an update from the search and rescue team. While they had found no more individual survivors, they saw evidence that another large group was living and operating close to Piccadilly Circus and Charing Cross stations. As a group, they discussed their ongoing goal of getting a census up and running.

Bradley and Dr. Li discussed ongoing concerns about what to do with the uninterred dead. Jax and Bradley's teams came across bodies regularly while above ground on missions and did their best to bury or burn the remains. With such a small team and an estimated 500,000 or more corpses, though, it would be years before all of the dead had been found and put to rest. So far the cold weather worked in their favor, but as temperatures rose those bodies would begin to decay and disease would flourish.

While they hoped that somewhere, possibly in Westminster, additional remnants of the government survived and were working to get things in hand, Kate felt strongly that they had to assume help was not coming and no one was trying to get anything organized. After all, it had been two months since the bombing ceased.

Finally, to wrap up the meeting on a positive note, Kate gave her update on the Doctor's visit. Knowing someone was working outside to investigate the double timeline seemed to boost everyone's spirits. The radiation sensors, high-capacity water purifier and extra rations were a huge morale boost.

Kate had Osgood distribute the radiation tablets. Unlike Russian Blue, which was administered after radiation exposure and helped capture ionizing radiation and purge it from the body through excretion, these tablets were preventative.

The Doctor had explained that one tablet could enhance a person's radiation tolerance for a full day. The radiation levels were increasing gradually, and they were already reaching the point where any time above ground even in a radiation suit resulted in mild radiation sickness. And they had a limited supply of Russian Blue. Kate, Jax, Bradley and Doctors Sullivan and Li were already talking about stopping all above ground missions by the end of the week to minimize exposure. These tablets might buy them more time.

There were enough for each person to get five tablets. Since the supply was limited, Kate cautioned people to save their tablets for when they needed to go above ground for salvage or rescue work.

Completing her circuit of the basement, Kate returned to the entrance of the basement. Jax sat at the desk reading a large telecommunications manual.

"Found anything yet?" Kate asked.

Jax looked up and set down the manual, stretching her back.

"I wish. Very dense reading. While it would be nice to think we could find an amateur radio setup and get it up and running, I'm skeptical."

Kate tried to hide her disappointment. If they had a radio setup, they might discover that other parts of the world were in better shape and able to bring in aid to London. "Well, there's always Morse code. We should be able to find a telegraph key easily enough in the Museum of London, the Science Museum, or the defunct UNIT HQ under the Tower of London. Technically, you could get a telegraph key on Amazon and have it delivered by drone until just a few months ago."

Jax laughed, but it was not a happy laugh. It was a laugh Kate had grown accustomed to. It was a sound she associated with the way the world used to work compared to the horror they lived in now.

"Go to bed, Jax, I can take over."

"You're going out with the salvage team tomorrow, Kate. You should get your rest."

"I'm done with sleep for tonight. Go on."

The UNIT operative finally relinquished her chair and left Kate to finish the night watch. Spying the green ledger, Kate smiled a little. _Dad, what would you think of this whole surreal situation?_ She knew the stalwart Brigadier would have handled things calmly and decisively, as he had on untold missions in his military career and later with UNIT. The man was unflappable up to the day he died. _Wish you were here, Dad. No, strike that – glad you got to miss this one._

* * *

_**In**_ _**the TARDIS**_

"Holy shit!"

"Language, Peter."

The Doctor busied himself with the controls while covertly observing the boy's first reaction to the TARDIS. Still encased in his radiation suit, Peter turned in a circle, taking it all in.

"How did you fit all of this in here?"

The Doctor smiled and joined Peter at the entrance to the console room, assisting him with unzipping and removing the hood of his radiation suit.

"It's called dimensional transcendence. Google it."

Peter stepped out of the rest of the suit, dropping it on top of the Doctor's already cast-off suit in a corner by the door.

"I can't Google anything, Doctor, the Internet is gone."

The Doctor gathered up both radiation suits and tossed them into the decontamination chute.

"Okay, fair enough. This is the TARDIS. It travels through space and time. TARDIS stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space.

"The interior of the TARDIS is actually located outside of time. The inside is in a different dimension than the exterior is. When you are in here, you are outside of normal space and time."

"That sounds pretty bogus to me, but okay." Peter circled the console, taking in all of the dials and levers. The Doctor stood poised to act in case the boy decided to randomly pull a lever.

"There's a lot of math involved."

"Huh." Peter ascended the few stairs to the upper level of the console room.

"So, how big is it in here, anyway?"

"As big as we need it to be. There's the upper level, the lower level, and through that door over there are lots of other rooms and spaces. Any other questions?"

The Doctor listened with half an ear as he pulled up the coordinates for Coal Hill School in the current time zone.

"Sure, loads. What's your power source? Does it have any weapons? Is it hard to drive? How does time travel really work? Can you go forward and backward? Are there rules you have to know? Did you ever go back and meet your ancestors? Do you have a toilet? If so, where does the – _you know_ – go when you flush?"

"That's quite a lot to address. I'll answer a few of them later. Right now, I want to check on a thing."

The Doctor pulled the dematerialization lever and the console came to life. That gave Peter another opportunity to express wonder and curiosity, which normally would have cheered the Doctor considerably. Given their next destination, though, the Doctor barely took it in.

They landed with a boom. The Doctor pulled a monitor over to check out the local environment. Peter joined him at the console.

The readings were not good. Gamma radiation here was even above the Doctor's higher tolerance. The monitor showed a grainy image of destruction and desolation. Building materials lay strewn as far as the eye could see. It was already dark out, but infrared lighting enabled the Doctor to pick out the partially intact sign for Coal Hill School.

"Why did we come here?" Peter asked, somewhat disappointed.

The Doctor opened the chute by the door and retrieved his decontaminated radiation suit.

"I need to check something before we go off world. I will only be a minute. Don't touch anything while I am gone."

"I want to come with you." Peter opened the chute to retrieve his own suit, but the Doctor stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Not this time. I need to do this alone, Peter. And the radiation levels here are too high for you, even with the suit. I won't be gone long, I promise. You can watch me on the monitor."

"Okay," the boy said skeptically. The Doctor saw fear on his face and wondered again about everything the boy had experienced since Earth decided to go crazy.

* * *

It was worse than he expected. Nearly the entire structure of the school was levelled. The Doctor navigated his way through the rubble to what was, until recently, the main entrance. The steel framework of the doorway still stood, but all of the cinderblock lay on the ground. He approached the doorway with his torch held high, trying to get a glimpse of the interior. What he did see in the meager light confirmed what Kate told him. Anyone who had been in this building when the bomb hit was likely dead.

He spotted the shrine when he turned back toward the TARDIS. On one nine-foot section of intact brick someone had spray painted the message "_Students and faculty of Coal Hill School. You will not be forgotten._" People had taped pictures of students and teachers on the wall surrounding the words. The ground underneath the message was buried under a collection of wilted flowers, crosses, stuffed animals, and other mementos.

The Doctor swallowed hard, took a deep breath and stepped closer to the wall so he could search the pictures for people he knew. Well, one in particular. It didn't take long to find her. Just below the message was an 8" X 10" glossy picture of Clara Oswald. Scrawled in adolescent cursive at the bottom of the picture was "Mrs. Pink." The Doctor's eyes grew hot.

An equally large picture of Danny Pink was taped right next to Clara's picture. The photos were encircled by a spray-painted heart. The graffiti artist had taken the time to add pretty flowers twining through the heart.

"PE. You made an honest woman out of her, then." The Doctor smiled a little. He wondered how long they were married. He wondered if there were any children.

He studied the pictures a little longer, locating a few other teachers he knew. None of the children looked familiar, but the Doctor hadn't been to Coal Hill since 2014 or so. All of the children he knew – Courtney Woods, for example, would have finished school long before now. He wondered if Courtney had survived and was out there, somewhere. _I hope so, _he thought._ That girl had attitude._

Reluctantly, he turned back to the TARDIS, aware that even with the radiation suit he felt a flush of heat and the prickly sensation that probably meant he was getting more radiation than he should.

* * *

Back in the TARDIS, he found Peter sitting in the jump seat near the console, feet pulled up onto the seat and a book balanced on his knees. He steadied the book with his stump while using his remaining hand to turn the page.

"Nothing like a good book to pass the time!" The Doctor said more cheerfully than he felt. Peter, who had been engrossed, looked up, startled, then shut the book and joined the doctor in the vestibule.

"Treasure Island. It's pretty good so far, but I'm only on chapter one. Did you find what you were looking for out there?"

The Doctor stepped out of the radiation suit and returned it to the decontamination chute. An alarm chirped sharply, and the TARDIS exhaust system kicked on. Peter looked up at the source of the sound.

"What's that?"

"That's the emergency ventilation system. The TARDIS detected ionizing radiation That came in with me and is neutralizing it. It should kick off in a moment or two."

The Doctor felt a little lightheaded. It must have shown, because Peter was suddenly at his side, peering into his face.

"You've gone all pale. Are you okay?"

The Doctor took a breath. The dizziness passed as quickly as it came. His stomach felt a little queasy, but he was confident that would pass, too.

"I'm fine. Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yes! Can I help drive it?"

Peter followed him to the console, where the Doctor began setting coordinates.

"Give me a minute. Read another page of your book, and then we'll see."

The boy ignored the Doctor's suggestion, instead standing next to him and watching everything he did. The Doctor didn't know whether to feel irritated or pleased at Peter's curiosity. Finally, once the coordinates were set and verified, the Doctor pointed to the dematerialization lever.

"Pull that for me."

"What does it do?"

"Well, pull it and see."

Peter pulled the lever and the console came to life.

"Wicked!"

They materialized only a few seconds later, to Peter's obvious disappointment.

"Are we already on Sagacity?" he asked.

The Doctor pulled a monitor over so they could have a look.

"No. We're in near Earth orbit. I just wanted to check something."

They both studied the image of Earth on the monitor. The Doctor wondered if the boy would notice it.

"Wow, that's really cool. It's like what the astronauts would see from the Space Station back when there was a Space Station. But what's all the black stuff?"

The "black stuff" swirling thickly around Earth was what the Doctor had been worried about since Kate and Osgood told him about the two versions of their memories. _No wonder I couldn't land the TARDIS beyond this date and time._

"Those are Reapers."

"What are Reapers? Is that like the grim reaper?" The Doctor's patience was wearing thin from the incessant questioning, but he also didn't want Peter to have something new to worry about. He took a breath and counted to three before answering. Clara would be proud of him.

"They are creatures that live in the time vortex. They feed off of temporal paradoxes. Think of them as bacteria on a wound, where the paradox is the wound. They move in and eat everything on the surface of the paradox."

"I don't understand," Peter said.

"That's okay. We can't do anything about the reapers right now, but once we get the time audit done and set things right, things will be back to normal and the Reapers will be gone."

To take the focus off of that lame explanation and his own very real fear of what it meant that the biggest swarm of Reapers he'd had ever seen was descending upon Earth, the Doctor let Peter help with inputting the coordinates for Sagacity and also pull the dematerialization lever.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

The Doctor and Peter arrive on Sagacity.

**Chapter 5**

_**The Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight**_

Before landing on Sagacity, the Doctor materialized in near planetary orbit so Peter could have a look and answered a new onslaught of questions about the planet, the Universal Collaborative, and time and space travel, in general. For the Doctor, this was both amusing and exhausting. He hoped Peter was taking it all in and not just asking questions to be annoying.

The Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight was housed within the main citadel on Sagacity. The Doctor chose to materialize within the citadel but well outside of the Collaborative complex.

The planet's gravity was stronger than most bipedal species could tolerate, hence the enclosed citadels, which normalized gravity, stabilized temperature and the gas to water ratio and provided a buffer for the planet's extensive volcanic activity.

The Doctor moved to the switch that would open the door but was startled when an alarm sounded, and the TARDIS console came to life again. He had hoped to avoid this. He said a rude word.

"Language, Doctor" Peter chided. "What's happening?"

"We're being re-routed. We must've been identified by the Collaborative."

They landed with a boom. The Doctor squeezed Peter's shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't say anything, Peter. Let me do the talking, okay?"

"Yeah."

The monitor showed that the TARDIS was surrounded. The Doctor recognized the high-necked robes of his own people. There were four of them – two men and two women. At least none of them appeared to be armed.

When Peter and the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS the Doctor recognized that they were in the Collaborative's central laboratory. It remained largely unchanged from his own rotation on Sagacity back in his Academy days. Given that the Collaborative existed outside of the universal time stream in a manufactured temporal stasis, this was not too surprising.

He easily confirmed from their vestments that the four time lords in the room were all Academy students. None of them looked familiar, but that didn't mean much, given a time lord's ability to regenerate.

While none of the students had moved since they arrived, the Doctor had an odd sensation that people were crowding around him. It took him a moment to recognize that he was experiencing the normal psychic connection among his people. It had been a very long time, and he was surprised by the degree to which it affected him emotionally. He had to take a few deep breaths to calm down and get a sense of what the telepathic connection was conveying.

Curiosity.

Excitement.

Joy.

Fear.

Awe. _Really? Awe?_

Interestingly, he didn't feel any sense of anger or retribution in the room at all.

He felt a hand squeeze his arm.

"Doctor?"

_That's right. The boy._ The human wasn't telepathic, so was probably wondering why everyone was standing around not saying anything. He offered Peter a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Peter. At least, I think so." He looked up to the students.

"Hi there. I am the Doctor. This is my friend, Peter. He's from Earth. We have something we're hoping you can help us with."

A tall thin man rushed up to the Doctor and gazed intently into his face.

"It really is you! The instruments identified your TARDIS, but we couldn't be sure…" His face broke into a grin. The other students approached, looking equally excited about their visitor.

"This is incredible!"

A youthful-appearing time lady grasped him by the shoulders, stood on tip toe and kissed him on the cheek. The Doctor felt himself blush. This was not at all the greeting he expected.

The thin man noticed the Doctor's curious expression and explained.

"We haven't seen another time lord since Gallifrey disappeared. And one so distinguished! You are a topic of study at the Academy."

The Doctor didn't know how to process that information. _Suppose I shouldn't be surprised, though._

The woman who kissed him said "I am Erdith. My father and uncle served under you at the fall of Arcadia." Erdith's eyes shone. She cupped his cheek with her hand and through contact telepathy the Doctor learned that her father and uncle died at Arcadia, as did so many other honorable soldiers. He remembered their faces.

"Belish and Lukor. I remember them. They saved hundreds of people that day. They were true to Gallifrey."

"Thank you, sir."

One by one, they approached the Doctor and he learned who they were and how they came to be on Sagacity. Each had a story to tell. He was touched by their kind thoughts and words, by how happy they were to see him.

And yet he felt a different energy nearby, but not in the room. Someone who was familiar and well known to him. That vibration filled him with a sense of anticipation, or perhaps anxiety.

"Who is your preceptor?" He finally asked. So far, he'd only met Academy students, but traditionally a cohort of students on rotation to Sagacity were accompanied by a seasoned time lord – usually a retired teacher or council member – who guided their studies.

The thin man, whose name was Hanar, answered. "Time Lady Romanadvoratrelundar is our preceptor. Ghianna went to fetch her."

_Romana. Of course. _

The students were equally curious about Peter. The boy tolerated their attention better than the Doctor expected, though he was obviously uncomfortable when Erdith ran a hand through his close-cropped ginger hair. The Doctor interceded.

"Peter has been through a lot, and he's only twelve years old. I met him when I got a message from a friend on Earth and went to investigate. There is some serious timeline disruption in 21st century Earth. I was hoping you could audit the timeline and find the critical incident that caused the disruption." He held up his sonic. "The humans I spoke with were experiencing time doubling. They mapped out two discrete timelines, which I have with me."

That got the interest of the students, Hanar, in particular, who took the proffered sonic, strode over to a console and inserted the sonic into a slot. Several monitors came to life. Banks of numbers in high Gallifreyan scrolled up the screen.

"What the hell is that?" Peter asked.

"Language, Peter," The Doctor answered. "That's the information Kate and Osgood put together translated into Gallifreyan. That's the language of the time lords."

"But they're all speaking English."

"No, they aren't. You're hearing English."

"But _I'm_ speaking English, and they understand me."

"The TARDIS hacked the auditory cortex in your brain and is translating."

Peter looked like he had more questions based on that answer, but happily, he was interrupted.

"This is fascinating!" Hanar exclaimed, scanning the data. "Were there any other symptoms of disruption?"

"Yes. The divergence was extreme. I was unable to arrive anywhere later than 18 December 2025. When I finally landed on that date, I found the world in ruins. Apparently, there was a global thermonuclear war. I know from my own memories that there was never a nuclear war on Earth in the early 21st century.

"After leaving Earth, Peter and I spotted masses, and I mean _masses_ of Reapers approaching Earth."

The students crowded around the console, studying the monitors. The Doctor could feel but was not included in their high-energy telepathic dialogue. He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down toward Peter.

"And I thought you said the time lords on Sagacity were all students. But these people are all old."

The Doctor looked more objectively at the four time lords and ladies, and understood how Peter would come to think of them as old.

"Well, time lords have much longer life spans than humans. When our bodies get old or sick, we regenerate – basically, create a whole new body to live in. For us, physical age is relative. A time lord who is a hundred years old is barely an adolescent."

"But they don't look like adolescents. They look old."

"To you," the Doctor said. "To me, these are young adults."

"Huh. So, what do they study at the Academy? Do they graduate with degrees? After that, what sort of jobs do they do?"

"It might be good for you to write your questions down and then we can take them on when we have some down-time."

The Doctor reached into an interior pocket on his coat and pulled out a notepad and pencil. When he offered them to Peter, he saw an immediate barrier when Peter struggled to accept them with his one hand and the pencil dropped and rolled away.

The boy stuffed the notepad in a trouser pocket and scrambled for the pencil.

"Sorry about that, Peter." The boy smiled a very adult smile. The Doctor's eyes felt a little hot all of a sudden.

"No worries, Doc. I'm getting better at the whole one-handed thing."

Peter found a desk with a chair nearby, sat down, pulled out the notepad and got to work on his list of questions.

The Doctor joined the other time lords around the console. Hanar stood at a keyboard typing in commands. From the Doctor's own rotation at Sagacity, he surmised that the student was pulling up Earth's absolute timeline from the Collaborative's data banks.

Another time lord manned a different keyboard and monitor pair, sorting through the timeline provided by Kate and Osgood. Erdith and another time lady were connected to a psychic interface, likely experiencing the critical incidents in the timeline from the Collaborative's data banks and comparing them to the high-level timeline provided by Kate and Osgood.

_This is one of the few things I miss about being on Gallifrey_, the Doctor thought. So many facets of Gallifreyan life were collaborative.

The Doctor observed for a while, but, as Clara often pointed out when they traveled together, he didn't have much of an attention span. He made his way over to where Peter sat, still writing out his list of questions. The Doctor noted that he was already several pages in.

"They're going to be busy for a while. Let's have a look around."

"Is there any food here? I'm hungry."

Ah yes, twelve-year-old human boy. The Doctor remembered that they were basically stomachs on legs.

"I'm sure we'll find something."

* * *

They were on their way back from the dining hall where Peter had something to eat and the Doctor answered the first two pages of questions. The Doctor sensed her presence as they neared the laboratory. They turned a corner into the main hallway and there she was.

She didn't look a day over 800, and currently assumed female form with dark hair and brown eyes that reminded the Doctor of her first incarnation. A younger time lady was with her, the Doctor assumed it was the other student Hanar had mentioned.

"Doctor, it's been a long time."

"Romana. So good to see you. So, you must have gotten tired of e space and found a way out of it."

"Yes. I ended up back on Gallifrey. Got involved in the High Council, and even did a turn as Lady President. That was before the time war."

Peter looked like he was about to ask a question, but the Doctor cut him off with a stern look.

"Peter, this is an old friend of mine. We used to travel together. This is Romanadvoratrelundar. Romana, this is Peter of planet Earth." Romana smiled at the boy.

"You can call me Romana."

"That's a relief!" The boy held out his hand.

It took a moment for Romana to remember the human custom and also recognize that the boy could not complete the ritual in the traditional way before she extended her left hand and they shook.

Ritual complete, Romana gestured to the time lady that accompanied her. "This is Ghianna. We were just coming to meet you in the laboratory."

The Doctor sensed the same curious excitement from Ghianna as he had from the other students. Romana's thoughts and feelings were largely hidden.

They returned to the laboratory together. Ghianna joined the other students at the console. Peter returned to his list of questions, no doubt to add some new ones based on their tour around the facility.

"You have a tight knit cohort of students. They work well together," the Doctor observed. Romana smiled thinly.

"Well, they've been here much longer than a typical rotation, with no home planet to return to." The Doctor sensed blame in her tone of voice.

_Here we go,_ the Doctor thought.

"Gallifrey is not lost, you know. It's safely hidden in a pocket universe."

Romana did not respond.

"I had no choice. Well, I did. I could have blown up the planet and that would have ended the time war, and I almost did that, instead."

"We know about the pocket universe. We also saw the timeline where you did destroy Gallifrey. Yet again, you have broken the laws of time instead of protecting them."

_This. Again._

But then Romana smiled, and the Doctor felt the sentiment behind the smile – sadness, relief, hope and gratitude. She'd allowed him that brief contact with her psyche. One chink in the wall. The Doctor felt his eyes grow hot again.

"Thanks for doing that. None of us can go home, but at least the time war is over and there still _is_ a home."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Someday, when it's safe, we will find Gallifrey again."

Just then, Ghianna approached and summoned them to the console. Peter pocketed his notepad and pencil and joined them. From the telepathic sentiment the Doctor could feel from the five students, he feared that things might be more complicated to solve than he'd hoped.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_**The Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight**_

"We see a little over nineteen million discrepancies in the timeline starting in Earth year 2016." Hanar delivered this news with a neutral expression.

The Doctor swallowed hard and tried to appear as unaffected as Hanar seemed for Peter's sake.

"That many? That's a lot of territory to cover. What else have you learned?"

"Well, most importantly, the timeline disruption seems to be contained to planet Earth. We did a concurrent timeline comparison between the true timeline and the one reported by your humans. We also sampled timelines through the temporal mainframes of over two hundred populated planets in the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies and compared those to the true timeline. There were no discrepancies except for on Earth."

Ghianna seemed to sense the Doctor's thirst for more information. "The humans identified discrepancies in macro events – primarily in political and military occurrences. That's not surprising. Macro events are more common across a diverse sampling of people with disparate experiences. Such a disparate group would not notice the thousands, even millions of micro events that actually contributed to the outcome they experienced at the macro level."

"Give us some examples, Ghianna," Romana primed. Ghianna blushed a little and the Doctor surmised that Ghianna was no stranger to feedback about her tendency to come across as an egg head.

The younger time lady used a keyboard to pull up a graphical representation of a chronological series of events, where each event was a blue rectangle with a number.

"Let's take a look at event 78900-b. This was the French election of May 2016. On the true timeline, the En Marche! candidate won the election. On the corrupt timeline, the National Front candidate won. That event didn't just happen randomly." Ghianna touched the event on the screen and a vast chart of other rectangles connected by lines displayed. While most of the rectangles were blue, a few of them were red.

"These are all the micro events that led up to that outcome. There is still a nearly infinite number of variations that can occur at the micro level and still result in the same outcome at the macro level."

Ghianna touched one of the blue rectangles. The screen displayed images and text, and a hologram video appeared and played silently just above the console.

"Cool!" Peter exclaimed, watching the hologram video. The video showed three candidates standing at a podium on a stage. A moderator asked a question, and a young male candidate answered. The facial expressions and body language of the other candidates conveyed surprise, amusement and vindication.

"In this example, on the true timeline, during the final presidential debate leading up to the election, the candidates were asked a question about how they would address unemployment. The National Front candidate's answer was poorly delivered, resulting in significant loss of base voters. On the corrupt path, that question was not asked due to time constraints. While that micro event was a definite departure from the true timeline and did contribute to the outcome in a small way, it did not play a significant role. Whether or not the question was asked, on the corrupt path, the outcome was the same.

"However, there is a finite number of micro events that fall on the _critical path_ that led to the macro event. These events had to happen the way they did, or the outcome would be different. One of the audits we ran was a series of simulations using different variations of micro events to see which ones effected the outcome. That helped us identify the events on the critical path."

"Hey, that sounds sort of like a Monte Carlo simulation. I know about those. They're really cool."

All heads turned towards Peter.

"Monte Carlo simulations are a kind of computer algorithm that use repeated random sampling to find numeric results," he explained. "The underlying concept is to use randomness to solve problems that might be caused by preceding events. It's basic probability modelling. It's used in math and physics, but I can see how you're using the same concept here to determine the probability of those, um, mega event thingies."

The boy blushed alarmingly and avoided eye contact. The Doctor surmised he spent a lot of time and energy hiding his intelligence and innate geekiness.

"You're right, Peter. That's very good. Events on a timeline are basically math. All of time and space is math. But you're twelve years old. How could you know anything about Monte Carlo simulations?"

"Well, I'm in the accelerated math and science program in school. Mr. Pink showed us one day. The Monte Carlo method is also used to run investing scenarios and predict gambling outcomes. We spent an afternoon playing poker and using a spreadsheet to run Monte Carlo simulations. Don't worry, we used fake money. Monte Carlo is a big casino back on Earth. Or it was, anyway. That's where the name came from."

The Doctor's hearts skipped a beat. He felt the other time lords in the room picking up on his surprise.

"You had Mr. Pink as your maths teacher?"

"Sure. He was cool."

"So, you went to Coal Hill School, then."

"Uh huh."

"Why didn't you say anything when we stopped off at Coal Hill before we left Earth?"

"I dunno. It didn't seem important. I didn't know why you wanted to go there. It was levelled. Everybody died. I missed school that day, or I would be dead, too."

"We'll talk more about this later." Peter looked solemn. The Doctor reminded himself that this was a boy who had undergone extreme trauma and likely had difficulty opening up about the past. _Tread carefully, Doctor. This boy may be more than he seems, but he's still a boy._

Romana got the focus of the conversation back on the time audit. "Anyway, Ghianna, I think we understand how you arrived at your findings. Hanar, can you tell us definitively what went wrong in the timeline, and whether it can be repaired?"

Gianna stepped away from the console to give Hanar access. He typed on the keyboard and the monitor showed a set of twelve red rectangles.

"As I mentioned earlier, we identified a little over nineteen million discrepancies on Earth's timeline between the year 2016 and 2025. The good news is that the majority of these are a knock-on effect from a much smaller set of primary discrepancies. Each of these twelve discrete events have a series of sub-events leading up to them."

He tapped the first red triangle. The monitor showed a split screen with images and text in Gallifreyan on each side of the screen. Some of the images and text on the right had red borders.

"The left side of the screen shows the event and the sub events leading up to it on the true timeline. The right side shows things that went differently on the corrupt timeline."

The Doctor stepped up to the monitor to study the content. He summarized it to confirm his understanding and also for Peter's benefit.

"So, in this case, the event was the United States democratic presidential primaries, which took place between February and June of 2016 and culminated in the selection of a democratic candidate for the election on 8 November. This must be where things went awry and caused the progressive candidate to win the election rather than the nationalist candidate.

"That's correct," Hanar confirmed.

"So, let's see what went wrong." The Doctor studied the two timelines on the monitor, tapping rectangles to see the details of the differences.

"It looks like there were three candidates going into the beginning of the primaries, which started on 1 February with the Iowa caucuses. On the absolute timeline, Martin Shaw, a centrist candidate, withdrew when he did poorly in the caucus and received no delegates.

"I see here on the corrupt timeline that Shaw _did not_ withdraw, choosing instead to hang on and see how things went in the next caucus. He did well enough in the New Hampshire caucus to stay in the race and took delegates away from the more conservative candidate in the next two primaries, thus widening the margin between the conservative and progressive candidates."

Peter yawned.

"The next set of states had their primaries all on the same day, called "Super Tuesday." 11 states all had their contests. Shaw did not pick up enough delegates to continue, so he withdrew once all of the state tallies were in. Although he withdrew, he did manage to take enough delegates away from the conservative candidate that it seems to have destabilized her campaign from there. The progressive candidate capitalized on the situation, and thus became the democratic candidate for presidential election in November of 2016. Did I interpret this correctly?"

"Basically, yes," Hanar confirmed. "Mind you, there are scores of sub-events that weren't on the critical path that also contributed to the outcome. If one were to go back and try to repair this part of the timeline, the right place to start would be at the Iowa caucus on 1 February.

"The goal would be to find the least intrusive way to ensure that Shaw withdrew, and then make sure the remaining candidate picked up the number of delegates they achieved on the absolute timeline."

The Doctor uploaded the audit onto his sonic. Peter snapped out of his stupor now that the "boring" part was over.

"So, Doctor, we could go back in time and convince this Shaw guy to drop out after the Iowa voting thing,"

"Caucus," the Doctor primed.

"Right. The caucus. After that, could we fast forward to where the results for those other candidates get announced to make sure everything's cool?"

"If everything went right, yes, that's how it works," the Doctor confirmed. "But as Hanar mentioned, there are lots of other things going on in the timeline. When we take any action to correct the timeline, we could inadvertently affect some of those other things and cause ripples that affect the outcome."

While the Doctor was careful to say "we" he had no intention of allowing Peter to participate in the timeline corrections. While the boy was obviously smart and would likely make a good companion, bringing him along would only increase the risk of causing ripples. Possibly tidal waves. There was also that curious coincidence connecting Peter to Danny Pink and Coal Hill School.

"Sure. That's the Bootstrap paradox, right? Like in _Back to the Future_?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind. It's just an old American movie. The main character goes back in time and accidentally meets his mother. Only he doesn't know it's his mother. Anyway, she's pretty hot and they end up going out. Because his mother falls for him she never hooks up with his father. That means in the future he's never born. He spends the rest of the movie trying to find ways to get his parents together and fix the paradox."

"Well, there are a lot of different types of things that can happen. Bootstrap paradox is one of the most well-known. When we go back to fix these discrepancies, we have to be very careful. This time audit will help us keep track of events and also verify we haven't done more harm than good."

Romana cleared her throat. The Doctor felt his stomach clench. He suspected he knew what was coming. _I knew this was way too easy_, he thought.

"Nobody is going anywhere. Especially you two. Doctor, Gallifrey may be gone, but that doesn't change the fact that you are a person of interest in this major timeline corruption. Normally, you would be escorted to Gallifrey while the enforcement side of the Collaborative conducted an inquiry, possibly followed by a trial.

"Under these circumstances, you are confined to Sagacity for the foreseeable future. Your TARDIS is grounded."

Two armed guards entered the laboratory and took up positions next to the Doctor.

"This is a little extreme," the Doctor spluttered. "You don't know that I have anything to do with this situation. I'm the one that brought it to the collaborative!"

Romana smiled.

"And we thank you for that. I will initiate the inquiry right away. While we'll do everything possible to expedite it, you will likely be here for a while. You and Peter can stay in your TARDIS, if you'd like, or choose beds in the Academy dormitory, it's up to you. In your spare time I think you will be an important mentor to these students."

The Doctor could feel excitement and warmth coming from Erdith, Hanar and the others.

"Your TARDIS also has a wealth of information that will be valuable in conducting the inquiry. I have already initiated an upload of her databanks."

"I don't know what to say, Romana. This is unnecessary and invasive. I just want to find out what caused this and repair the timeline. The corruption could be from an alien incursion – Earth is certainly a magnet for those. We can't leave Earth's timeline in tatters. If you'd only let me go back and investigate. Human lives are in the balance. People are dying. Please. Let me help."

"Doctor, right now we're outside of space and time. That means you and your human friend can stay here as long as necessary and still go back in time to correct the errors if you're cleared of any wrongdoing after the inquiry."

"And if he's not cleared of any wrongdoing?" Peter asked. Romana did not meet his gaze. Perhaps she recognized his status as a hostage to the situation and felt badly. The Doctor couldn't feel any sentiment from her at the moment. Once again, she had shut him out.

"We'll determine that after the inquiry as well. I suggest you both relax and get settled in. Doctor, you will meet with the Academy students after the morning meal tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**From the journal of Brigadier Alistair Lethenbridge-Stewart**

_**24 January, 1970, UNIT Headquarters, London**_

_I thought we'd seen the last of the Doctor, but he resurfaced again this week, and wearing a new face. Extraordinary. Not sure how that works. He was found unconscious and hospitalized, and it took a while for me to be sure it was really the same man. Doctor Sullivan saved blood and tissue samples for later study. At any rate, the Doctor is on my payroll now. Seems his police box is grounded, so he's stuck here on Earth for a while. This could be a mistake, but it could prove useful having him around. At the very least, we can gather more information about his species. He says they're called Time Lords, and his home planet is Gallifrey._

_**June 19, 1970, UNIT Headquarters, London**_

_Had a bit of a scare this week. After a risky trip to another dimension, the Doctor was in a coma. Miss Shaw looked after him, and he did recover, but it was touch and go. When he regained consciousness, he was delirious, spouting off dire warnings and offering strange commentary. He said he'd slipped sideways in space and time – imagine there could be such a thing! Seemed he'd visited an alternate reality, where I was missing an eye, among other things. _

_We were investigating a string of murders in the restricted area at Hoo on the Isle of Grain. That beastly Stahlman was in charge. He nearly blew the installation sky high drilling through the Earth's crust. The Doctor managed to save the day, but then proceeded to call me names and leave the scene via his partially operational TARDIS control board, only to return, moments later, looking contrite and covered with muck. He'd managed to transport himself into the garbage tip._

_It was a bit rocky with the Doctor Wednesday and Thursday, as he was none too happy to find himself still stranded with us. His TARDIS sits in the corner of his laboratory. He seemed very down, and I couldn't stand to see him so low, so I yesterday invited him home to dinner. _

_In retrospect, I probably should have rung Doris and tell her to lay on an extra plate, but there was plenty to go around, and she quickly realized that the Doctor is not someone who requires the rolling out of red carpets. Within minutes he had her at ease and had Kate giggling through dinner with silly stories._

_Overall, I'm glad I invited him, and even more glad that he accepted. The whole family seemed comfortable around him, like he's a distant cousin we've known for years. Even though he can be mysterious at times and often prickly, I've grown fond of him._

* * *

_**Earth, Royal London Hospital**_

_**22:00, 25 December 2025**_

Kate became aware that she was too warm. Her arms and legs felt heavy, and she couldn't open her eyes. She tried to call out to somebody that she needed help, but instead she fell back to sleep.

The next time she awoke, she could hear people talking in hushed voices nearby. She felt incredibly tired and a little nauseous. While she felt the same heaviness she'd experienced on her previous awakening, this time she was able to turn her head a little. The movement caused pain, though, and she groaned involuntarily. The voices stopped talking. She felt someone squeeze her arm gently.

"It's okay, Kate, you're safe. Just lie still. Doctor Harrison is on his way." It was Osgood. She sounded worried.

Kate cracked her eyes open. Osgood stood at the rail of her hospital bed. She looked like she hadn't slept in a while or perhaps was ill.

"What happened? Why am I in a hospital bed?" Kate was surprised by how weak her own voice was. She also became aware that she was on an oxygen cannula.

"You were in a building collapse while out with the salvage team. You were pinned under the rubble for two hours. They finally dug you out and brought you back here. It was touch and go for a while. We were all worried." Osgood smiled, but Kate thought she looked like she might cry. Kate tried to sit up but found she was too weak.

"The collapse. Was anyone else hurt?"

Osgood paused before answering, clearly debating whether or not to tell her some bad news.

"We lost Stewart Finney and Ingrid White. Jax broke her arm." Kate's stomach rolled over. She breathed a few moments, trying to absorb the shock of the news.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well, you got a concussion, and had a nasty break to your femur that required surgery. Your radiation suit was torn, and you got a pretty good dose. Even with the radiation tablet from the Doctor, it must have been pretty high. You were in isolation the first two days due to the high gamma radiation readings. Dr. Harrison and one of the sisters each took radiation tablets so they could attend to your injuries. You've had another course of Russian blue, so hopefully your system is clearing the radiation."

Just then, Dr. Harrison opened the curtain drawn around Kate's bed.

"Oh good, you're awake! How are you feeling, Kate?"

Kate coughed and cleared her throat. It hurt her chest to cough. Osgood smiled, squeezed her arm again and disappeared behind the curtain, obviously wanting to give Kate privacy while the doctor examined her.

"I've been better, I think. Thanks for taking care of me."

Harrison smiled.

"It's all part of the service here at Royal London. Just wait until you get my bill."

"Very funny."

Harrison used a stethoscope to listen to her chest, then cranked up the bed so Kate was in a sitting position so he could listen to her lungs from her back. He shined a light in her eyes, felt the glands under her jaw, and checked her temperature. Finally, he checked the IV lines leading up to two bags suspended from a hook next to her bed.

"You are definitely on the mend. The worst of it's the leg. You were pinned under something pretty heavy. At the location of the break your femur was partially pulverized. We inserted a steel rod and several pins. You will be on crutches for at least six weeks, possibly longer, but you will walk again.

"Other than that, you've got bruised ribs and an orbital fracture to your cheekbone. You also lost an earlobe. Whatever did that was very sharp. If it had been your throat instead of your ear, we wouldn't be talking right now."

"Nothing really hurts, though," Kate observed.

"You're on a morphine drip. Enjoy it while you've got it, we don't have much more."

"You can wean me off of that. We lost two people and I need to get back upstairs as soon as possible."

Kate moved her right arm experimentally. When that went well, she decided to try to sit up. Flexing her abdominal muscles evoked a lance of pain. She gasped with the intensity of it.

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Harrison watched her appraisingly until he seemed satisfied that she wasn't going to try to get up again.

"You need to stay here for a while and rest. Injuries aside, you had yet another significant radiation exposure. And your cough is getting worse. Basically, you're a mess, Kate. You need to relax and let Jax and Osgood run things for a while. You've been out of it for five days and the world hasn't ended. Okay, poor choice of phrase. Merry Christmas, by the way."

The next time Kate awoke she found Osgood and Jax playing cribbage at her bedside.

"Jax, how is your arm?" Jax took her arm out of its sling to show off a pristine white cast from knuckles to elbow.

"It's on the mend. Hardly hurts at all, and the ibuprofen takes care of it." She glanced at Kate's leg, which was currently suspended above the bed by a sling and pulley.

"I got off easy compared to you. We thought we'd lost you, Kate." Osgood nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, one good thing did come out of the salvage trip. We found a radio setup. The team went out again the day after the collapse and hauled it back here. It's quarantined in the far end of the upper level right now, near one of the Doctor's radiation sensor/cleanser things. Once the Geiger counter doesn't go berserk around it, we'll get it set up and I will start broadcasting."

"That is good news." Kate looked over to Osgood. "Any word from the Doctor or Peter?"

Osgood looked downcast. "No. Nothing yet."

* * *

_**Earth, Nice, France**_

_**18:00, 14 July 2016**_

"That's really sweet, Danny, Thanks." Clara paused, looking down thoughtfully at her clasped hands.

"I love you. I really do, and I think it would be better if we waited - _shit!_"

Clara met the gaze of her reflection in the vanity mirror.

"You can do this. Okay. Let's give it another try."

They arrived at the hotel in Nice an hour ago. Danny decided to squeeze in a workout at the hotel gym before their 7pm dinner reservation. Clara used the time alone in their room to bathe and dress for the occasion, and also practice turning down his proposal. She'd found the receipt for the engagement ring in his wallet while searching for tip money for the porter.

Practicing in front of a mirror didn't seem to be working for her, so she paced for a bit and tried to clear her mind. She knew she was acting silly. After all, she didn't know for sure he was going to propose at dinner. She wasn't even one hundred percent sure the ring was for her.

"How do I do this, Doctor?" She tried to imagine how the time lord would react to her histrionics. He'd been on her mind lately. She even had a dream about him the other night. In the dream, he was alone and in trouble. Clara kept calling out to him, but he didn't hear her.

She pictured him sitting at the end of the bed, swinging his gangly legs.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal, Clara. It's PE. Just tell him you don't want to be Mrs. PE," she imagined him saying.

"It's not that easy. He's a nice guy. A really nice guy. I should be thrilled that he's asking me."

"But you're not."

"I just feel so stifled. I feel like if I marry him then we'll settle down and have 2.5 children and take turns being teacher of the year until it's time to retire, and that will be it. My whole life. Boring."

"Clara? Who are you talking to?"

She snapped out of her intense conversation with the imaginary Doctor to see Danny entering the suite, gym bag in hand.

"Oh, no one. Have a nice workout?"

He came over and kissed her. "Good. You look very nice. Do I have time for a shower before dinner?"

Clara smiled. "Of course, you do. Don't take too long, though, we have to leave early because of the traffic."

The Bastille Day celebrations were already well underway. Danny had made the dinner reservation for 7pm so that they would finish just ahead of the parade, which would pass right in front of the hotel.

When Danny disappeared into the bathroom, Clara grabbed her mobile and stepped out onto the balcony. She had resisted this temptation for two years now, but she couldn't delay any more. She opened her contacts and found the Doctor's number.

It rang continuously for five minutes. Clara finally hung up.

* * *

_**The Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight**_

The Doctor and Peter retreated into the TARDIS. The Time Lord sighed heavily and looked over at his youthful human companion. He looked equally frustrated.

"So, we're stuck here, huh?"

"For the moment, yes." The Doctor made an effort to climb out of the morass of anxiety about the fate of Earth on the corrupt timeline and also the new threat of the inquiry. He was also not happy about being conscripted into tutoring a cohort of Academy students while the TARDIS databanks were uploaded and pilfered through by the enforcement arm of the Universal Collaborative.

"Well, might as well show you around the TARDIS. This will be home for the foreseeable future."

At the end of the tour, Peter was suitably impressed with his new digs, which included, among other things, a swimming pool and bowling alley. The Doctor noted that the boy seemed equally, if not more excited about the well-stocked self-service kitchen, his bedroom, and the extensive library and laboratory. He also recalled that Peter had recently been living in the basement of a defunct hospital with no plumbing on a post nuclear event world.

Their last stop was the clinic. The Doctor had Peter lie on a diagnostic bed, which inspired another reel of questions.

"But why?"

"Because I want to run a scan and make sure you don't have any lasting damage from your accident and the radiation back on Earth."

"Oh. Okay. But how dangerous is this? What kind of scan is it? Does it use radiation? Ultrasound? Are there any risks?"

"Nothing like that, and it's very safe. The only risk is of me losing my temper if you don't hold off on the questions for a bit."

The scan didn't take long. The Doctor schooled his face while he studied the results.

The right arm was severed just below the humerus. It looked like a fairly competent surgeon had done some repair work, with rounding of the end of the bone to accommodate prosthetics later. The neurological study revealed the source of Peter's phantom pain.

"Do you want to know why sometimes it feels like you still have your right arm?"

"Um, yes." Peter avoided eye contact.

"When you lost your forearm, all the nerves going to the missing part of your arm were severed. The nervous system is a vast network running from the brain, through the spinal cord to every part of your body. Electrical impulses, or signals go back and forth from the brain to different parts of the body." Peter cut him off.

"I know about that stuff already. So, when my nerves got severed, my brain stopped getting signals from my arm. It keeps sending them, though, but they have nowhere to go."

"Close. The human body is pretty good at healing. As your arm healed and those nerve endings died off, the brain re-routed the signals it was sending to your arm somewhere else. In your case, it looks like now those signals are going to your left ear."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Lots of things in science don't look like they make sense from our perspective. But think of it from the brain's point of view. I've got these signals to communicate, but when I send them I'm not getting a response any more. Your brain is like a massive data server that sends out automatic emails and things. It's sending all these emails, but everything that goes to this one group of addresses keeps bouncing back. Well, that will go on for a while,"

"but eventually, those old email addresses are going to get purged," Peter finished for him.

"That's exactly right. The problem is, your brain is still getting triggered to send emails to those old addresses, because someone sold their email list to a third party."

"I don't get it. Who's the third party?"

"Your left ear. It's neuroplasticity. When one area of the brain is damaged, often another part of the brain will pick up the job of the damaged part. It required changing the cell structure to carry out that work, but the brain does it, no problem. Maybe your ear had capacity to receive more signals. Maybe something you habitually do caused a synapse in your brain to decide that the returned emails should get forwarded on to your ear."

To illustrate the point, the Doctor reached out and tugged Peter's left earlobe. His stump moved involuntarily. Peter startled.

"I felt my arm! When you did that, I felt it in my right arm!" He tugged on his left earlobe while watching his stump. It happened again.

"That's really weird, Doctor. So, any time I touch my ear I'm triggering it. Good to know." He looked sharply at the Doctor.

"But your email analogy really sucked. I mean, it made no sense at all. Total crapola."

"Really? I thought it was good. Anyway, now that you know what's triggering that feeling, you can avoid it by not touching your ear. Eventually it will go away on its own." _And if I had any nanogenes, I could not only get rid of your phantom limb, I could also regrow your arm._

In addition to the arm, apparently Peter had sustained a grade 2 concussion and whiplash. Those injuries were still healing but did not require intervention.

"Do you have a lot of headaches, Peter?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess so. They're not too bad, though, and they're getting better. After the accident, I had a headache all the time. Now it just comes and goes. My ears stopped ringing at some point, too. I don't remember when."

The Doctor palpated Peter's neck to get a sense of how well the cervical spine was moving. While there was some stiffness, he didn't think it was anything the boy even noticed.

"So you're a real doctor, then? Because Osgood told me it was just a name you picked out for yourself." The Doctor felt himself blush a little.

"Yes, I actually am a real doctor. Among other credentials, I studied as a physician in 19th century Glasgow." The Doctor summoned his most severe look to cut off further questions.

Peter had absorbed enough gamma radiation over time to cause cellular changes and mild damage to his DNA. Without intervention he would likely develop leukemia, sarcoma, or other cancers. If he were back in that environment, the Doctor doubted he would live a year. He was also sure that the other survivors were in similar, if not even worse condition. And Kate said the radiation levels were increasing.

_I've got to fix this_, he thought.

* * *

After the tour and the exam Peter was ready for another meal. Once the boy was seated and consuming his dinner the Doctor returned to the console room, challenging Peter to find his way back when done eating.

It was in the third compartment he searched. The Doctor sighed with relief and hauled it out.

"What's that?" Peter asked. _That was quick_, the Doctor thought. He held it up for Peter's examination.

"It's a vortex manipulator. It's for time travel."

"Wearable tech. Cool."

"I can use this to go back to that first intervention point in Earth's timeline and set things to right." He looked meaningfully at his sidekick. "I only have one."

"Oh." Peter's expression darkened.

"Look, I can leave here, make the corrections, and return a minute after I left. If all goes well, everything will be sorted well before morning and the Collaborative will let us go on our way." _Well, maybe_. Romana might still push for an inquiry, but the Doctor hoped her gratitude for his actions to save Gallifrey would outweigh her strong predilection to follow rules.

"But Romana said we're outside of time here. If we just hang out while they do their inquiry once they clear you, we can leave, right?"

The Doctor groaned inwardly. The idea of trying to articulate the many reasons that he might not come out well in the inquiry just made him tired.

"It's a long story, but let's just say I have no reason to believe that an inquiry will clear me. Regardless of the inquiry outcome, it's possible Romana will find other reasons to detain us here or prevent us from going back and correcting the timeline."

"But why? I thought she was your friend."

"It's complicated."

"Is it about sex?"

The question startled the Doctor. "_What?_ No! Of course not. And that's a rude question."

"It's not rude. Sex is just part of being human. Oh, wait, you're not human. You do do that, don't you?"

"Do what?"

"Have sex."

"I think that's another good question for your list, Peter. Right now, I need to put together a plan. I saved the audit results to my sonic, and I have another way of traveling through time. Now I just need some silence so I can think this through. Why don't you read a little more Treasure Island?"

The Doctor pored over the audit confirming the students' findings. Peter lasted longer than the Doctor expected, but eventually the glassy-eyed human issued one too many bone-cracking yawns and the Doctor ordered him to bed.

Then he used the TARDIS data banks to pinpoint the coordinates for what would likely be the first of many trips. Several Earth hours passed before the Doctor felt he had a workable plan. The boy had not yet emerged from his bedroom. Knowing that Sagacity's artificial night was passing, the Doctor couldn't put off his departure any longer. _I will be gone and back before Peter wakes up_, he thought. But when the vortex manipulator was firmly strapped to his wrist and coordinates entered, his finger hesitated over the Execute button.

Honoring what he thought Clara would want him to do, he looked in on the boy. Peter was, indeed, dead to the world. He slept on his stomach with his head turned away from the door. One bare foot dangled over the edge of the bed. The Doctor heard a soft, rhythmic snoring and wondered how long it had been since Peter slept deeply in a soft bed.

Assured that the boy would be fine in his absence, the Doctor returned to the console room. He checked the monitors. A lone guard was stationed outside the TARDIS. Other than that, the room was empty.

"No time like the present," he uttered to the TARDIS. She did not respond. He tried to interpret the silence. Was she disappointed in his impatience? Condoning his plan? Outraged that he was leaving a traumatized boy alone? He couldn't tell.

"Okay, fine. Bye, then." He pressed the Execute button and felt the familiar nauseating pull behind his navel as he dematerialized and was on his way to planet Earth, 2016, Des Moine, Iowa to convince Martin Shaw to pull out of the United States presidential race.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes:**

Wherever you are, I hope you are safe and well during this awful pandemic. If you are not well, I hope you are on the mend and that this chapter takes your mind off of things.

**Chapter 8**

_**Sunday, 31 January 2016, Earth, Hilton Garden Inn, Des Moines, Iowa**_

The Doctor felt solid ground underneath his boots just before his legs crumbled. He felt the shock and actually saw stars when his knees connected solidly with the brick pavement. His stomach rolled with sudden nausea. It took a few moments for the world to stop spinning, and a few moments more to collect his composure.

"Quick and dirty time travel," he croaked hoarsely. He hadn't travelled by vortex manipulator for hundreds of years for a reason. Sadly, things changed with age. At two thousand years (and then some), this mode of time travel was rougher on his system than in his younger days. Hopefully he would get used to it; this was only the first of possibly many trips.

Thankfully he had selected an unoccupied courtyard as his destination, so no one witnessed his embarrassing state. When he felt he could, he stood shakily with the help of a conveniently placed bench. His knees smarted, especially the left one. Looking down, he saw that the trousers were torn at the left knee and cursed. _My favorites._ He felt the unmistakable trickle of blood down his leg and into his sock.

He knew from his exploration of the time audit that Shaw's headquarters for the caucuses were on the first floor of the hotel. He found the main entrance and got directions at the reception desk. He hadn't walked far when he spotted the sign by the door and heard the busy hum of Team Shaw coming from within the room.

Shaw's HQ was in a small conference room. Twenty or so volunteers sat at cramped tables. Most of them where on phones, speaking animatedly to potential Iowan supporters. Stacks of paper littered the tables along with half-eaten doughnuts, pizza boxes and discarded foam coffee cups. Nobody noticed the Doctor's arrival.

_No security here,_ the Doctor mused. _Anyone could walk in. They're lucky it's only me._

In addition to his goal of repairing the timeline, the Doctor was on the lookout for what might have caused the aberration. While the time audit didn't reveal a specific catalyst that started the chain reaction, it didn't eliminate the possibility of outside intervention.

"Hi there! Are you new?"

The Doctor was pulled from his rumination and searched around for the speaker. It took him a few moments to identify the source as a young, short statured neatly dressed woman who had approached from behind.

Her hands were full. She set down a cup full of ball point pens and a carton of political pins to shake his hand.

"I'm Elizabeth. Are you Alan Bean? We've been expecting you."

_Hmm, how to respond?_ The Doctor considered his original cover story and decided to stick with it, rather than avoid the risk of assuming Bean's identity when he had no idea if that would serve his purpose.

"No, actually, I'm not. My name is Doctor John Smith. Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth."

The young volunteer smiled. "You're English! Well, welcome, Dr. Smith. Are you here to join the phone bank?"

"That's _Scottish_, actually, and I am not here for phone work. I'm a political analyst. I've got some important and time sensitive information for Senator Shaw. Is he about?"

"No, he's out meeting the public." Elizabeth unfastened her mobile from a belt clip and studied something on the screen. "It's just past ten now, so he just wrapped up the town hall and is heading to the home of a precinct captain to meet with some potential voters." She moved toward a coat rack placed conveniently by the door.

"If you'd like, we can meet him there. The information is really urgent, huh?"

"Oh yes, very."

* * *

The Doctor learned a lot about Elizabeth on the fifteen-minute drive to their destination. From the child car seat in the back, worrisome assortment of toys and the distinct smell of toddler, he ascertained that she had a small child. Upon asking about it he learned that Elizabeth was a single parent of a three-year-old girl named Alexis, who was currently staying with her grandparents while Elizabeth was at the caucuses. Her home was in Maryland.

She had joined Shaw's campaign a year earlier when he first announced his intent to run for president. While she played a senior role as a volunteer organizer for the campaign and was on a first name basis with him, the Doctor surmised that she did not have enough leverage to help the Doctor persuade Shaw to end his run for president.

The Doctor kept the questions coming so that Elizabeth didn't have a chance to ask any of her own.

They parked in front of a modest split-level ranch with a covered front porch. The front yard was covered by snow, but the walk up to the front door was shoveled and well salted. Several cars filled the driveway and were parked along the side of the road.

When the Doctor swung his legs over to get out of the car he gasped sharply and cursed under his breath as his left knee reminded him that it had recently sustained an injury and he was no longer a young time lord.

"Hey, are you okay?" Elizabeth was around to his side of the car in an instant. She saw the problem immediately. It would be hard to miss – his knee had swollen enough that the torn fabric of his trousers was stretched tight. The angry flesh showed through the tear, purple and clotted with blood.

"Sheesh – that looks bad! What happened?"

"It's nothing," the Doctor said, though his jaw was still clenched from the pain. "I tripped on my way into the hotel. It must've stiffened up from sitting. It will limber up once I'm on my feet again."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth looked on as he rose stiffly using the grab handle on the passenger side ceiling. She clasped his other arm as he straightened up and tentatively put weight on the leg. The Doctor gave her a tight smile.

"I'm fine, really. And I'm a fast healer. Please don't worry." She smiled, but her eyes still looked concerned.

"Well, you're the doctor, I guess. But you said you're a political analyst, so not a medical doctor, right?" The Doctor didn't answer.

"Let's take it slow and see how you feel. If it's too bad, I can drive you to the ER, no problem."

_Yes, problem_, the Doctor thought. Hopefully his knee would cooperate sufficiently that she wouldn't insist on getting him medical attention. If he ended up at a hospital, his cover would be blown with the initial vitals check.

By the time they reached the door the Doctor found he could walk almost normally, though the pain was significant.

A printed sign on the door advised them to "C'mon in!" in a folksy font. They did as they were told. They hung their coats in the coat closet and followed the buzz of conversation into a crowded living room. Elizabeth deposited the Doctor in an empty chair and disappeared into another room. Apparently, she had been in this house before.

The attendees were plain working people; most men wore flannel work shirts and blue jeans or corduroys. A few of the women were dressed up in their Sunday best, but most were dressed casually.

The Doctor noted two exceptions, one who was likely Shaw's chief advisor or campaign manager, and another that was undoubtedly a bodyguard. The latter looked way too fit and alert to be a politician and sat in a chair by the door. While he appeared to be reading something on his phone, the Doctor had no doubt he was tuned into what was going on in the room and would react to a threat at a moment's notice.

The topic currently under discussion was health care. The Doctor scanned the room, letting the conversation wash over him but not paying much attention to what was said. The twenty or so potential Shaw supporters were largely older, a mix of men and women, and largely Caucasian.

Shaw sat in the middle of the sofa, surrounded by the sturdy Iowans. The Doctor identified him by his freshly pressed suit and neat tie that he probably didn't select on his own.

Shaw was currently listening intently to a woman on his left bang on about the cost of her prescriptions and fear about her husband's upcoming hip replacement. Heads bobbed in commiseration around the room. Apparently, the cost of healthcare was a key concern to most.

Just as Shaw started to answer the Doctor felt something very cold press against his angry knee. He jumped and looked up to see Elizabeth and another woman standing beside him.

"Here, this might help." Elizabeth guided the Doctor's hand to hold the ice against his knee. When she seemed confident that he would keep it there, she nodded toward the other woman. "Rachel here is a nurse. This is her house, by the way."

Rachel offered a glass of water and set two white tablets on the table next to the chair, then set about pulling up a stool so the Doctor could elevate his leg. He now had the attention of most of the attendees. A chubby middle-aged man seemed particularly miffed about the distraction.

"Let's leave that on your knee for 20 minutes. And take the aspirin. It will help with the swelling."

"Thanks," the Doctor smiled toward the well-meaning nurse. "I need to pass on the aspirin, though. I've got an allergy." He hoped that such an allergy was not an unheard-of thing in these parts. Rachel didn't bat an eye and happily didn't continue to press when she offered other pain relievers and he declined. She disappeared back into the kitchen when he accepted her offer of coffee and returned shortly with a steaming cup.

By the time the Doctor could return his attention to Shaw, the senator had finished his answer and the conversation had moved on. The chubby man who had watched the Doctor being mothered over asked Shaw pointed questions about his voting history on bills related to the environment. From his comments about environmental protections, pesticide bans and agricultural economics, the Doctor ascertained that this man was a farmer.

While Shaw responded fairly well, the Doctor could see right away why he wasn't doing well in the polls and would not be successful in his candidacy. The man had no personality whatsoever. He stumbled through his answer, repeating himself more than once. While he seemed sincere, he didn't come across as someone who knew what he was talking about, and from the body language in the room the Doctor suspected he had won no new supporters in this house today.

Things wrapped up shortly thereafter. The Doctor remained seated as the crowd queued up to shake hands with Shaw, thank Rachel and her husband, reclaim their outerwear and make their exit. The Doctor noticed the bodyguard observing him casually.

Elizabeth joined him as the last two attendees were seen off at the door by Rachel and her spouse. "How's the knee, Doctor Smith?"

"Much improved, I think." He removed the ice pack to reveal a much more normal sized knee. While the ice definitely helped, his Gallifreyan constitution likely played more of a role in the expedited healing.

"That looks much better." Rachel prodded his kneecap gently. "You should still stay off it as much as possible, though. Keep it elevated and ice it for 20 minutes every four hours."

"And who is this?" Rachel's husband joined them. He looked older than his wife, and nearly bald. The Doctor was just about to ask where Shaw had gone when the man himself stepped out of the bathroom, waving his hands to dry them. Shaw joined the scrum around the Doctor, along with his campaign manager. The bodyguard stood near the door. The mobile was nowhere in sight. He watched the proceedings expressionlessly.

"This is Doctor Smith. He came with Elizabeth."

"Martin Shaw, pleased to meet you." The senator extended a hand, which the Doctor shook.

"I'm so sorry you missed our coffee clatch. Can we count on your vote?"

The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Actually, I'm not local. I am a political analyst. I have some information for you. I showed up at your headquarters and Elizabeth was kind enough to drive me over."

The campaign manager interceded. "We're always looking for good intel. And where did you say you were from?" The Doctor was grateful he'd done his homework properly before leaving the TARDIS. He ignored the campaign manager and directed his comments toward Shaw.

"I'm from the Brookings Institute in DC. My group studies polling data for both parties and runs data modelling."

"That sounds interesting," the campaign manager answered. "Look, we have another group coming to the hotel to meet with the Senator, so time is short. Why don't you ride with us?"

The Doctor saw it was unlikely he would get time alone with Shaw. The car ride might be his only chance to talk to the man at all.

"Fine. Thanks. Elizabeth?"

"No, you go on. I need to check in on a canvassing team on the other side of town. Best of luck with your knee."


	10. Chapter9

**Chapter 9**

_**Sunday, 31 January 2016, Des Moines, Iowa**_

"Are you sure you don't want any of this?" Shaw raised his unwieldy pork tenderloin sandwich toward the Doctor. After the Doctor shook his head the Senator took a huge, messy bite.

They were currently in transit from the meet and greet at Rachel's house back to the Hilton Garden Inn, where Shaw had a speaking engagement. At Shaw's urging, Fred, his bodyguard cum driver, stopped at B&B Grocery, Meat and Deli. The sandwich shop was apparently a well-known dining place for politicians, their operatives and the media during the caucuses. Their stop at the deli ran long while Shaw greeted other diners, shook hands, and signed autographs.

The Doctor stirred his salad around inside its foam container. His stomach was still queasy from the vortex manipulator. He hoped his profound disgust at the senator's greasy pork sandwich didn't show on his face. _If only you knew how genetically similar a pig is to a human, maybe you would think twice about ordering something like that._

"Now tell us about this urgent new information, Doctor Smith. What does the Brookings Institute know that our own guys wouldn't know?" This was from the campaign manager, who had introduced himself as "Jameson Starck – that's S-T-A-R-C-K" right before he tore into a meatball sandwich. Red sauce leaked out and dripped onto his tie. The Doctor considered alerting him to the new adornment but thought better of it. He closed the lid on his salad. His stomach felt immediately better once the food was out of view.

"Okay. As I mentioned, my team does data modelling. We've been looking at the most recent polling figures. We ran different models with the data. Before I tell you what we've come up with I'd like to hear what you currently think your chances are here in Iowa, and if you stay in the contest."

Shaw looked like he was about to answer, but Starck cut him off. "Well, we know we're not as well-known as the other two candidates. That's about funding and super PACs. The system is really stacked against us because we don't have a lot of wealthy contributors. What we do have is a good grassroots base of support. We probably won't win very many delegates today, but we'll win a few. And we're bound to do better come Super Tuesday, after the next round of debates."

The Doctor noticed that Shaw flinched when Starck said 'debates.'

"And what do you think, Senator?" he asked.

The Senator took a moment to think before answering.

"Well, I know I'm a long shot. To be honest, I don't expect to win, but I do think it's important that people have a centrist candidate to vote for.

"The other two candidates are so polarized that it will be hard for Democratic voters to unite behind either of them. If Starck is right and I can just get a fingerhold, we can gain momentum, and, you never know, I could win the nomination. If not, I could be the running mate for one of my competitors."

But Shaw's nonverbals told a different story. The Doctor had a hunch that Shaw was not nearly as optimistic as his campaign manager. He took a breath and summoned his most authoritative expression.

"It's interesting that you brought up the extreme positions of your competitors. That was something we took a good look at. As you probably know from your own experts and your considerable experience as an elected official, candidates often begin a race in an extremely progressive or extremely conservative position to win the attention of the voters. Whether it's positive or negative attention, they get their positions on issues out there. Over time, as the field narrows, the remaining candidates do typically move toward the center, modifying their rhetoric to accommodate a broader base."

"You're not telling us anything new, Smith—"

The Doctor cut Starck off.

"Our studies take that dynamic into account, but, more importantly, factor in current events – the domestic picture, the international climate, and all of the key issues." He leaned forward and made eye contact with Shaw.

"Senator, based on everything we're seeing, you have no chance of winning enough electoral votes to win the Democratic nomination. You would do better to bow out gracefully now and support the conservative candidate. You align with her on most of the issues."

Shaw looked relieved. Starck looked irritated. The Doctor rolled on.

"If you do that now, you will be in a good position to be her running mate or a cabinet member if the Democratic party wins the presidency. If the Republicans win, you'll have a good chance at a more senior role in the party from which you can grow your base for the 2020 presidential election.

"This is the right time to withdraw. If you continue with your campaign, you will likely pick up enough electoral votes to destabilize the conservative candidate, and the progressive candidate will win the nomination. It's no secret that you and he have butted heads, and there will likely be no place for you in the cabinet if he gets elected.

"And, statistically, he is a higher-risk candidate who will be less likely to win against the Republican candidate, no matter which Republican wins the nomination. It will serve both you and the party better if you bow out now."

This proclamation was met with silence. The traffic light turned green and the car rolled through the intersection. Fred activated the blinker as he turned left to pull up in front of the hotel entrance. Shaw was the first to break the silence.

"That's what I've been thinking all along. It was really just a matter of when I should pull the trigger – after Iowa or after New Hampshire." Starck schooled his expression.

"Look, Doctor Smith, you're not telling us anything we haven't already heard from our own advisors. I'm not sure why you came all this way to tell us, to be honest, but thanks for your perspective."

"So, you will withdraw, then?" The Doctor directed this again to Shaw, who had perhaps grown too used to listening to his campaign manager instead of his advisors. The Senator looked thoughtful, and then decisive.

"Yes. This evening, once most of the polling results are in. I will still meet with this next group, and we'll hold off on telling the team until right before I make the announcement."

Starck's expression was inscrutable. "You will not say anything about this yourself, right Doctor Smith? We don't want any leaks on this."

The Doctor smiled. "Of course. Thanks. Well, best of luck with the rest of the day, then."

He offered Shaw his hand and the senator shook it. The politician's hand was warm and sweaty. Starck shook his hand as well. The Doctor resisted an urge to wipe his hand on his trousers afterwards.

They bid farewell in the lobby. The Doctor watched the two Americans walk back toward campaign headquarters and then found a discrete alcove near the valet station where he could make his departure unobserved.

* * *

_**Wednesday, 03 February 2016, Earth, Hilton Garden Inn, Des Moines, Iowa**_

_**06:00**_

He materialized in the same coordinates as his original arrival. This time, he managed to keep his feet, though his stomach was decidedly cranky. He stayed bent at the waist for nearly two minutes while he negotiated with the disgruntled organ.

When he was reasonably confident that he wasn't going to vomit, he straightened up and had a look around. Once again, the courtyard was unoccupied, and graced with two inches of fresh snow. The Doctor shivered involuntarily, suddenly aware that he was sweating copiously.

_Quick and dirty time travel. I really am a bit old for this._

He bought a newspaper at the reception desk and settled in an over-stuffed chair by the fireplace in the lobby, happy for the warmth. It was on the front page of the papers, of course. The Doctor cursed out loud.

_**Shaw routed in Iowa, optimistic about New Hampshire**_

_After receiving no delegates from Tuesday's Iowa caucuses, Senator Martin Shaw (D) of Maryland remains hopeful about his chances in the upcoming New Hampshire primaries and also Super Tuesday, when voters in 11 states go to the polls. Senator Shaw's campaign manager, Jameson Starck, gave an update on the Senator's behalf after the polls closed Tuesday night._

"_While Senator Shaw enjoyed spending much time with potential Iowa voters over the last week, we weren't too surprised by the poll results. We didn't expect much support in Iowa. New Hampshire is another story. The Senator has a lot of east coast support, and we're counting on our New Hampshire base to get out to the polls. He is already on his way there, where he has town halls scheduled in each precinct between now and February 9__th__. And, of course, you will see him in the Durham debate, as well."_

The article went on to break down how many delegates Shaw would need to receive in the next two weeks, but the Doctor didn't bother reading it. The headline said it all. Shaw did not withdraw from the race as he said he would.

The Doctor returned to the courtyard, drawing the curious interest of the attendant at the reception desk as he exited the lobby mere minutes after arriving. After a quick scan to confirm that the courtyard was unoccupied, he braced himself and pressed the Home button on the vortex manipulator.

* * *

_**Inside the TARDIS**_

This time, the negotiations with his stomach were woefully unsuccessful. He felt the TARDIS' horror and concern as the small bit of coffee and salad he'd ingested hit the floor grate and trickled down to the lower level. He cracked his eyes open when he was sure the paroxysm of vomiting was over. He heard the sizzle of steam rising from his leavings as the effected surfaces super-heated to burn off the mess.

"Thanks," he said aloud to the TARDIS. He felt her compassion in return.

He checked the video feed from outside of the TARDIS and saw that the guard was now seated at the table where earlier Peter had made his list of questions, playing a holographic game.

While anxious to make his next visit and hopefully sort out the timeline, the Doctor took the time to look in on Peter and also check on is knee and change his trousers. It would be a little odd if he showed up two weeks after the Iowa primary still in the same torn slacks. He made his way stiffly to a room he rarely visited—his bedroom.

The TARDIS had placed a nice vase of aromatic flowers on the dresser, and a first aid kit in the attached bathroom. While both knees were bruised, the left one was no longer swollen, and the abrasion was completely healed. He cleaned up the crust of dried blood.

While working over his knee, he spied his reflection in the mirror and noticed he needed some attention from his razor. While removing the dark stubble, he couldn't help but notice the shadows under his eyes and his pale complexion.

_Three trips so far, and I'm not weathering it well_, he thought. If the symptoms didn't start to ease off, he would need to plan an extra trip to find a different means of time travel. That was risky, could be time-consuming, and also potentially unsuccessful. _Let's hope it doesn't come to that._

He washed his face, applied a little after shave, took a quick look in the mirror and called it good enough.

Back in the console room, the Doctor studied the next segment of the time audit related to the US primaries, focusing on the New Hampshire contest, and Shaw in particular. It took a while to finally select the time and place for his next visit – the morning of February 9th, the day of the New Hampshire primaries. Shaw would be alone in his hotel room. He was sure he'd have a better chance convincing the senator to bow out if Starck were not present. He also decided a dramatic entrance might serve him well.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for yet another rocky voyage via vortex manipulator, and pressed the Execute button.

* * *

_**Tuesday, 09 February 2016, Earth, Holiday Inn, Durham, New Hampshire**_

_**06:30**_

Along with the now-familiar nausea, the Doctor felt a strong tingling sensation in his hands and feet as he materialized in Shaw's hotel room. The man himself was sitting up against the headboard of the bed dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, coffee cup poised midway to his mouth.

The Doctor just barely had time to appreciate the look of shock on the Senator's face before he was seized by a strong wave of dizziness. Black spots filled his vision. He felt himself falling. He knew no more.


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for the delay - had to manage some real life priorities. Here is a nice long chapter to make up for it.

**Warning:** One small section of this chapter takes place in Nice on Bastille Day, 2016, during the parade. No violence takes place, but that was an important day and a tragic event few will forget any time soon. For those who lost loved ones in the Nice truck attack, you have my condolences and no harm is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

_**Tuesday, 2 February 2016, Durham, New Hampshire, 06:35**_

The Doctor became aware that someone was shaking him energetically by the lapels. His head bounced around involuntarily with the motion, adding to the nausea. He opened his eyes out of sheer self-defense – he had to get the shaking to stop.

Senator Martin Shaw leaned over him, his eyes wide with concern. His breath smelled of breakfast sausage. The Doctor rolled to his side and heaved.

Nothing came up but a thin trickle of bile, thank the gods. He reached shakily into his breast pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! You scared the living crap out of me! Are you okay? And how the hell did you do that? You're not from the Brookings Institute. _Who are you_?"

The Doctor noticed with some amusement that senator Shaw was only partially dressed. While he had on a turtleneck and sweater, he was still in his boxer shorts.

He worked his way up onto his hands and knees and paused in that position to fight another wave of nausea before answering.

"I'm a time traveler," he croaked. "I came here from the future because something's gone terribly wrong and I'm trying to fix it." The Doctor was horrified by how breathless and weak he sounded. _So much for making a grand entrance._

"What? Time travel? Well, I suppose I have to accept that for the time being, since you just appeared out of thin air. But why visit me? What do I have to do with anything?"

By now the Doctor had managed to rise and gingerly made his way over to a bench at the foot of the bed. Everything hurt. He took a deep breath and composed himself.

"You have everything to do with it. You were supposed to end your campaign at the Iowa caucuses like you said you would, only you didn't."

The senator searched the room, spied his trousers folded over the desk chair, and moved to put them on.

"That doesn't make any sense. My Iowa numbers were laughable. What difference does it make if I stay in the race for Super Tuesday? I'm really not that important."

"You're not, in a historical sense." Shaw cringed. The Doctor heard Clara pipe up about his woeful lack of tact and tried to channel a little of her graceful diplomacy. He also made a mental note to pop ahead to see if even the small modifications resulting from this first botched attempt changed her outcome at all.

"But by the numbers, you are _very_ important. As I cautioned you back in Des Moines, by staying in the race you have chipped away at the conservative candidate's base at a micro level. You may think that doesn't matter, but in this case, it will cost her valuable delegates."

"Why do you care?"

"Because in the future, instead of enjoying a few years of mercurial politics, trade wars, and increasing national and international tensions, if the conservative candidate does not win the nomination there will be a global-scale nuclear war that will end life as you know it."

Shaw stared at him a moment before responding. "No. No, I won't accept that. It's not possible. This is some kind of ruse that Bernie put you up to. Or maybe Hillary. Yeah, this feels more like Hillary. At any rate, the joke's over, and I'm going to call security now and have you escorted out."

He scanned the room, apparently searching for his mobile, which the Doctor happily discovered was sitting on the bed within arm's reach. He leaned over and scooped it up.

"Sorry, Senator, but it's all true. I wish it weren't. What will it take to convince you?"

"Show me the future. Take me there. If it's like you say it is, then I will withdraw this morning."

"I was afraid you would say something like that." The Doctor considered the situation and came to a decision. One thing for sure, this wasn't going to be pretty. He stood a little shakily and took a deep breath.

"You won't do it, will you? You can't because none of this is true."

"No, I can, and I will, but I don't think you're going to like it."

Back in the TARDIS, before he'd made his first trip, he'd told Peter that he had only one vortex manipulator as a way of breaking the news that Peter wasn't coming along on the journey. In reality, the Doctor could have taken the boy along.

"Why not?"

The Doctor smiled. "Oh, lots of reasons. What's going on in the future is scary. Heartbreaking, even. Also, you're new to this, and you won't be prepared for the experience, or what you see. But first,"

The Doctor moved close to the senator. So close, he could feel his breath on his face.

"We have to get a bit intimate."

Without further warning, the Doctor embraced Shaw tightly.

"Hey, what-"

He found the Home button on the vortex manipulator and pressed it. Whatever else the senator said was lost in the time vortex.

* * *

_**14 July, 2016, Nice, France**_

Danny proposed after they placed their dessert and coffee order. He did it sweetly. He got down on one knee. His voice trembled while saying the words. Clara saw that his eyes were even a bit moist.

And when she turned him down, he visibly crumbled. To her credit, she managed it well, confirming she did love him, and explaining that her answer wasn't "No" forever, it was more of a "not yet."

She's gotten monosyllables from him since then. He paid the cheque and they made their way through the crowds back to the front of the hotel. It was late. The parade had already started two blocks down. They couldn't see it yet, due to the crowd, but they could hear it. Everyone was drunk and having a good time. Well, except for the two of them. Clara tried to keep things light and hoped that Danny would emerge from the funk he'd fallen into.

She was watching the crowd and then turned toward Danny to say something and discovered he was gone. She didn't know what upset her more, the fact that he was gone, or the fact that she hadn't noticed him leaving. She checked her mobile, in case he'd texted her, but there was nothing. She stepped up onto the cement buttress of a streetlamp to try to spot him in the crowd.

That's when she heard a commotion nearby, much closer than the actual parade, which was still a block away. Many in the crowd screamed when a gunshot rang out. Someone shouted through a megaphone in staccato French.

Other people in the crowd were craning and pushing to catch site of whatever was going on. From her elevated view, Clara saw that a truck that was clearly not part of the parade was stopped in the middle of the street. Several French police officers surrounded the vehicle, some with truncheons, others with rifles. One looked like he had just discharged his weapon into the air. The driver was pinned against the truck by several police officers. And then she saw him. Danny stood off to the side speaking with two other officers, one of whom was taking notes. Clara pushed her way through the crowd and joined him.

"Danny, what happened?" He avoided her eyes and smiled shyly.

"It's nothing, really. I just saw this guy and he didn't look right. I followed him and saw him passing a sack of machine guns through the window of the truck. I found a police officer and told him."

The officer who had been taking notes looked up and smiled at Clara. "Votre petit ami vient de sauver beaucoup de vies."

_Typical Danny Pink. Just when I think I've got it sorted, you go and do something incredible._

Clara felt a rush of love for the man standing next to her. Danny gasped in surprise when she hugged him fiercely. He accepted her sloppy kiss on the cheek, eyes averted, perhaps a little smug. The officers smiled knowingly, then returned to the official scrum around the driver and truck.

Clara whispered in his ear, "I do love you. And, if the offer still stands, I will marry you."

* * *

_**Sagacity, The Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight, the TARDIS**_

When the Doctor felt like he could, he opened his eyes. As he'd surmised from the sound, Senator Shaw was off to his immediate left, puking his guts out. _So it's not just me_, he thought.

Travel by vortex manipulator wasn't a pleasant experience for anyone, but for a reasonably youthful person of average health, such an extreme reaction was rare. _Got to have a look at the device._ _Maybe a tune up will smooth things out._

"What the hell did you do to me?" The Senator spluttered. "You nearly killed me!"

The Doctor used the console to lever himself up from the floor grate and then offered a helping hand to Shaw. Once back on his feet, Shaw tugged at his clothes to set them right. He was pale and sweaty.

"Where are we?" He asked, his first question forgotten over the grandeur of the TARDIS interior. The Doctor smiled a little.

"This is the TARDIS. It's my vessel. It moves through time and space. Well, only not right now. It's impounded."

He used the nearest keyboard to initiate a search command.

"What's your postal code?"

"My what?"

"Postal code. Your Zip code." When the Senator hesitated, the Doctor let a little of his irritation show.

"Look, you said you'd believe me if I showed you how bad it was in the future. If you give me your postal code, I can show you what your neighborhood looks like in 2025, when the nuclear exchange happened."

Shaw gave him the postal code and the Doctor entered it in, using the same date in December of 2025 when he'd visited Kate. Once the TARDIS completed the search the Doctor pulled a monitor over, peered at it, and then invited Shaw to have a look. It was nearly a minute before he said anything else. When he did, his voice was tight and shaky. He pointed to a partially collapsed structure in the viewer with one pudgy finger.

"That's the community college. I've spoken there dozens of times." His finger moved to an area across the street from the levelled school that might have once been a gas station. For the most part, it was now a scorched hole in the ground.

"That's Joe Weldon's Mobile station. My—my son works there. What the hell happened? Is he okay? Can I go out there?" Shaw searched for and found the door, but the Doctor grasped his arm.

"We're not actually there. I told you, my ship is impounded. I just pulled it up in the chronoscanner so you could see it on the viewer."

"Take me there. I need to find Mike and Laura. You take me there right now!"

"Senator, I can't. Look at those numbers on the screen. That's the radiation level. Even in a suit you would die within minutes. I'm sorry."

Shaw balked a bit more, maintaining that it was all a ruse. The Doctor pulled up other segments of the corrupt timeline, becoming increasingly anxious as more of the nighttime period eroded on Sagacity.

After looking at snippets of some of the last news broadcasts from major syndicated channels, which laid out the catastrophe in terms he could both see and understand, the American senator finally began to accept that the corrupt future was real.

But before he returned Shaw to his hotel room in 2016, the Doctor, ever the scientist, led him to med bay for a quick full body scan. Shaw was still bowled over by what he'd witnessed on the corrupt timeline and didn't put up much resistance.

The scan revealed that Shaw had taken on a moderate level of artron energy and also chorenn, two byproducts of time travel that should have been contained by the vortex manipulator. While artron energy was harmless, and even helpful to the immune system, chorenn could really do some damage.

These results confirmed the Doctor's hypothesis—the vortex manipulator was damaged. He considered doing a quick self-scan but thought better of it. The Doctor knew he was saturated with the stuff. _Well, no wonder I feel awful_, he thought.

"What does it say?" Shaw asked, looking concerned. The Doctor took a deep breath and tried to channel his inner Clara.

"Well, you've definitely time travelled, and you will have stories to tell your friends back home. You did get a dose of chorenn poisoning. That's why you were sick. Once I get you back home, the effects will resolve in a day or two," _or perhaps more like a fortnight_, the Doctor thought but didn't say.

Shaw was impatient to return to his own time stream, but the Doctor made a critical detour to his workshop on the lower level to try to repair the damaged device. Upon inspection, it looked likely that the field coils were overloaded and one or more of them had burned out. In retrospect, the Doctor realized he should have checked that before using this particular vortex manipulator, as he had been forced to charge it from enemy blaster fire the last time he'd used it. It was a clever trick, and, at the time, his only option to escape a fatal outcome, but clearly it compromised the device.

While he lacked the parts to make a full replacement of the damaged components, he hoped that cleaning and tightening the field coils would true things up sufficiently to minimize the leak. If that failed to address the issue, the Doctor would have to find another mode of travel if he expected to live long enough to repair the corrupt timeline, if this attempt didn't resolve things.

That done, the Doctor returned to the console room, where he had instructed Shaw to wait and not touch anything.

"Can we go now?"

Shaw still looked pale and unwell. The Doctor tried not to feel too guilty.

"Yes. And you must promise to withdraw from the race straight away. Cancel all your speaking engagements and notify your staff. It's the only way to repair the timeline."

"Yes, of course, I will. Do you think I'm an idiot?"

The Doctor embraced Shaw tightly again. Shaw squinched his eyes shut, obviously not looking forward to the journey. The Doctor smiled a little as he pressed the execute button.

* * *

**From the journal of Brigadier Alistair Lethenbridge-Stewart**

_**12 November, 1971, UNIT Headquarters, London**_

_Well, our coverage of the first world peace conference almost ended in disaster, thanks to the Doctor. Well, that's a bit harsh, but I doubt the Master, another of his race, would be as interested in taking over Earth if the Doctor hadn't claimed it as home these last several years._

_Even worse, our thunderbolt missile got hijacked by the Master and pointed right at the peace conference. The Doctor managed to foil it in time, destroyed the thunderbolt in the process. I have loads of paperwork to fill out about that and will surely end up in front of a military tribunal to explain why it was necessary._

_As useful as the Doctor often is, I look forward to the day when he is no longer confined to Earth so we can have a break from him. I often wonder whether we would have so many strange occurrences if he were elsewhere._

_On another note, little Kate turns eight tomorrow. I'm glad to be home for it this time. Want to help Doris as much as I can. I've been away too long._

* * *

_**Earth, Royal London Hospital**_

_**18:00, 27 December 2025**_

In her bed on the lower level basement ward Kate dreamed.

_She stalked angrily through the woods. Kate knew the Doctor followed behind at a discrete distance. He arrived from London with her father the night before. While she'd been glad to see them, her father was uncommunicative through the evening meal and ignored friendly prodding from her Mum and the Doctor to eat. Finally, he excused himself from the table, claiming tiredness, and retreated to the master bedroom._

_At thirteen, Kate could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times her father joined them at the summer cottage in Southampton. She felt like she barely knew him. So, she'd been excited when they had word that he and the Doctor were making the drive. Kate tried not to take it personally when he didn't seem happy to see her._

_But then this morning when she sneaked up on him where he worked at the stove making eggs to give him a good morning hug, he jumped, sending the spatula flying across the kitchen. Egg from the spatula dripped across the floor as it made its journey, finally landing under the kitchen table. _

_Then, he'd yelled at her._

"_Damn it, Kate, you shouldn't sneak up on people! When are you going to grow up?"_

_She felt like he'd punched her in the stomach._

"_I don't know. Maybe when you start acting like a father."_

_She stormed out of the kitchen and out of the house._

_Kate found herself in the clearing, the remnants of last summer's tree fort overhead._

_While she was sure she'd outgrown the old place, she wanted the feeling of safety it's flimsy four walls brought her. She climbed the six wooden slats that served as a ladder and pulled herself up into her aerie._

_After about a minute she heard a knocking below and peered down out of the window. The Doctor dropped the stick he'd used to knock on floor of the fort and craned his neck to look up at her._

"_Hello there. May I join you?"_

_Kate almost said no out of spite but changed her mind. The Doctor had nothing to do with the fact that her father was an insufferable git._

"_Okay. But be careful. You're pretty old. And I can't carry you back to the house if you get hurt."_

"_I'll watch my step, then."_

_He scaled the ladder much more nimbly than anyone his age should be able to manage, and soon sat across from her on the floor of the fort. She glowered at him, both furious and ashamed that he saw her in such a state._

"_Why does Dad have to be such an arsehole?"_

_She studied the old man as he prepared his response. She could tell he was trying to decide how best to answer her question. Ultimately, to her great relief, he opted to treat her like an adult._

"_Kate, your father's been under a lot of stress lately. His job – well, he's got to make some very tough decisions, and it's not easy on him. I'm sure he didn't mean to be an arsehole this morning, especially to you. He loves you, you know. More than you can imagine."_

_While Kate was still hurt, as usual, the Doctor had found a way to help her feel better. A tear slipped out and she wiped it away angrily._

"_Why was he so quiet last night? Why did it freak him out when I snuck up and gave him a hug?" The Doctor didn't answer. He gazed back at her with those kind blue eyes of his. His silence got Kate worried._

"_What's wrong with him?" The harshness of her own voice scared her. More tears escaped._

_The Doctor sighed._

"_He had a very bad day yesterday. Some good men under his command died right in front of him. That's hard to live with."_

_Kate didn't know what to say to that._

"_Your Dad has seen things that most people would never imagine. He works very hard to keep the world safe, and it takes a toll on him. Experiences like that can make it hard for a person to open up."_

"_Is that why he has the nightmares?"_

_He'd raised the whole house the night before with his screams. It wasn't the first time._

"_Yes, I imagine so. What do you think?" Kate considered the question._

"_I think so. I know he can't control it. And he's always sorry when he wakes us up." _

_The wind soughed through the trees. It felt much chillier all of a sudden. It was darker, too. It cast a shadow over the Doctor's face. Perhaps a storm was rolling in._

"_Doctor, you work with Dad a lot. You've been in the same situations as he has. Why aren't you like him?"_

_The Doctor flinched a little, as if surprised by the question. When he met her gaze again Kate was surprised to see tears in his eyes._

"_I'm a lot more like him than you might think." He leaned forward and clasped Kates hands. Kate was always surprised by how much cooler the Doctor's hands were, compared to hers._

"_Let's go back to the house. I'm sure your father wants to apologize. And when he does, just remember that he's human, just like you, and trying to find his way."_

The dream faded. Pain, dizziness and nausea returned. Kate awoke.

* * *

_**Earth, Royal London Hospital**_

_**20:00, 27 December 2025**_

"I am in touch with a group in Madison, Wisconsin."

Jax was giving Kate an update on the amateur radio operation as Kate took a slow tour of the ward. This was her second walk of the day using crutches. While she didn't feel up to it, she made herself do it to build on the success of her first brief outing the day before.

"That's progress. What have you learned from them?"

Jax winced and adjusted her arm in the sling. "According to my contact in Madison, the casualties were devastating, but the aftermath has been almost as bad. Lots of vigilante justice. People running around shooting each other. Skirmishes over food and water. It sounds like chaos."

"All those guns. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Is any of the government system intact?"

"A bit, but communication is patchy. Washington DC and Virginia were obliterated, of course. There are rumors that the vice president and her husband were on holiday in Florida and are still alive, but they're just that, according to my source – rumors. The Governor of Wisconsin is alive, as well as the mayor of Madison and several other officials. They're working to get organized, but conditions are primitive, at best."

"I don't remember much of my American geography, but I know that Wisconsin is in the upper Midwest."

"My source says the majority of the missile attacks were on the East and West coasts. They had no impacts in Wisconsin, but the fallout's been severe. They're only barely managing, just like us."

"So we can't expect help from America." They reached the end of the hallway and turned around. Kate's head swam a little. Jax steadied her until she felt better. They resumed their stroll back to Kate's bed, moving more slowly for Kate's benefit. Her arms were fatigued from using the crutches.

"Anything else?"

"My Madison contact is in touch with a group in Mexico, and he says they're in better shape. He gave me their call sign. I will give them a try tomorrow afternoon our time, which will be morning, their time."

They reached the row of curtained cubicles that included Kate's bed. She made a point of looking in on the patients they passed as they moved down the aisle. Most were sleeping or not in good enough shape to know Kate was there, but she spoke to them anyway, urging them to hang on and focus on getting better.

She sank back into the pillow gratefully. Jax covered her with the sheet and blanket. Before Kate fell asleep, she asked the question she'd been holding back because she already knew the answer.

"Any word from the Doctor?"

"No. Sorry, Kate."

"Let me know…"

"Of course. If he shows up, we'll bring him straight to you."

Kate descended into dreams. Unlike the memories from the past that had been manifesting themselves of late, this time she dreamed of the Doctor. Not the Doctor of her childhood, but the new version that had shown up two weeks ago. In the dream, he was trying to get back to her but couldn't. Kate sensed that he was heading into danger and tried to warn him, but when she tried to call to him, she found she had no voice.

In the dream, he was moving from place to place trying to fix things, but there was a looming presence following him. He didn't seem to be aware of the presence, or how it drew continuously closer to him. Kate had the sense that soon this presence would catch up to the Doctor and torture or kill him, or worse still, turn him into something evil.

The dream faded, then twisted and changed, as dreams do. This time it was her recurring nightmare. The zombie dream. Like all the other times, Kate heard a noise, and rose to follow it. She heard a struggle and a scream that got cut off. She ran to the source of the noise and found a woman dead on the floor, her throat torn out. A wraith-like form knelt over the corpse. Kate drew in breath sharply when she recognized the dead woman was Jax. The creature turned at the noise. It was the Doctor, only he was a zombie. His eyes stared blankly at her, with no recognition. His mouth was ringed in blood. His features curled into a snarl and he hissed at her.

She woke up screaming.

* * *

_**Tuesday, 2 February 2016, Durham, New Hampshire, 06:45**_

"You!"

The Doctor felt himself hauled to his feet by two very strong hands. When his eyes focused, he was staring directly into the inscrutable brown eyes of Fred, the senator's personal bodyguard and driver. The smell of his aftershave was overwhelming.

"Fred, put him down!" Shaw sat down shakily on the desk chair. Fred maintained his hold on the Doctor's shirtfront. The Doctor drew in a strained breath, trying not to let the aftershave cause another vomiting attack.

Fred studied Shaw carefully.

"I came down to get you and you didn't answer the door. I got the concierge to open it, and you were gone. I knew there was something off about you, 'Doctor Smith'."

"Please. The senator is fine, and I can explain." The bodyguard finally relaxed his grip. The Doctor stepped away, straightening his clothes.

"Somehow I doubt that."


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for the delay. While this is not a cross-over, there are a few cameo appearances in this chapter and the next that warranted a little research.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_**Tuesday, 2 February 2016, Durham, New Hampshire, 06:47**_

The Doctor collected himself. "Yes, it's all easily explained. I'm-"

But Shaw cut him off. "Doctor Smith called me last night. He has some new data and raised some strong points. I asked him to come by and walk me through the new information."

"And that's why you materialized out of nowhere. And that's why Doctor Smith here is wearing a vortex manipulator." Fred grabbed his right arm roughly and studied the device.

"Yep, that's what this is, though I must say this one looks like it's been through the wringer. You do too, Doctor." Fred looked piercingly at the Doctor.

_Clearly, we're not playing with a novice. Time to come clean and see what happens._

"You're right, Fred, I am a time traveler. And somehow, I doubt your name is really Fred. And how did you come to know about vortex manipulators?"

Fred didn't break his gaze. "That's a long story, Doctor Smith. First, tell me yours. Why are you so interested in the senator here?"

Shaw looked like he wanted to interrupt, but the Doctor waved him off.

"I am not from around here, but I visit Earth often. I received a distress call from someone in 2025. When I was able to catch up to her, I discovered a world in ruins. As a time traveler, though, I knew it wasn't supposed to be that way. I did some research and discovered that Earth's timeline was dramatically altered. One of the first divergences from the true timeline was the Iowa caucuses, when Senator Shaw did not withdraw from the race.

"When we met in Iowa that was my first attempt to repair the timeline. I lied about being from the Brookings Institute and tried to convince the senator to end his campaign. I thought I had. But then when I jumped ahead, I discovered that he did not withdraw."

"It was Starck," Shaw broke in. "He talked me out of it."

Fred nodded knowingly.

"This was my second attempt. I came here to the senator's room this morning and explained the true situation. He demanded proof, so I took him to my time vessel and showed him the future."

"That convinced me. Also made me sick as a dog, apparently." Shaw did still look a bit green. For that matter, the Doctor still felt awful. _Is that the cumulative effect of my other trips or is the vortex manipulator still leaking chorenn?_ He set that question aside for a more convenient time.

Fred sat on the bed and looked at Shaw.

"So. are you ending your campaign, senator?"

"You bet I am. What the Doctor showed me – what I saw, well, it can't be described." The Doctor surmised that the experience made a fundamental change in Martin Shaw.

The senator looked at his watch. "And best to do it now, before Starck shows up. But first, I really need to call my wife, so if you will excuse me?"

The Doctor shook Shaw's hand and said his goodbyes before following Fred out into the hallway.

* * *

"So, who are you, really?" The Doctor asked the burly bodyguard/driver whose name couldn't possibly be Fred.

At Fred's insistence, they visited the hotel's café so he could get coffee and breakfast from the buffet. The Doctor passed on the food but accepted Fred's offer of coffee. The café was well supplied with sugar packets.

"I am an operative from an organization called Torchwood. Have you heard of it?"

"Heard of it? I'm the reason it came to be."

"So, you're the Doctor. I thought that might be the case." Fred dug into a pile of scrambled eggs.

"You've heard of me, then."

"Well, we have a mutual friend. Jack Harkness?" Fred talked with his mouth full. The Doctor's stomach cringed. He pushed his coffee away.

"Yes, of course. Captain Jack. When did Torchwood start recruiting Americans? And why is Torchwood interested in Martin Shaw?" Fred smiled cryptically.

"Well, I wasn't so much recruited as conscripted from the CIA, but that's a long story.

"We picked up elevated artron energy levels at different points in the US over a number of months. After some heavy analysis, we finally pinpointed it to Shaw's campaign. I joined up as Shaw's bodyguard in Iowa. While there, I got readings on everyone that had any contact with him. While Shaw is clean – well, he was until his little adventure with you, that is, Starck's marinating in the stuff."

"I knew there was something about him. I just thought it was because he was so – no offense – American."

"Offense taken. Not everyone in America is a complete asshole, Doctor."

"What else do you know about Starck?"

"Not much. I lifted his wallet and took a picture of his driver's license, which looked real enough, but the Department of Motor Vehicles has a different person associated with that name and driver's license number. A 90-year-old dead guy. I took Starck's picture and even got a DNA sample from his coffee cup and ran a search through my contacts at the CIA, FBI and INTERPOL and came up with bupkus. This guy's not from around here."

"Alien, do you think?"

"Could be. Or maybe he's just a time traveler. Anyway, he's here for a reason, and so are you."

"Perhaps we ought to pay Mr. Starck a visit." The Doctor held up his sonic. "I have access to a much broader data bank. I haven't scanned him yet, but I could."

But they were too late. Fred's call to the campaign manager's mobile went unanswered, as did his knock on Starck's hotel room door.

The Doctor used his sonic to open the room. The bed had not been slept in. There were no personal belongings. Whoever had been staying here hadn't slept in the bed or used the shower before leaving this morning.

The Doctor scanned the room, hoping to pick up trace readings from Starck. Sure enough, the readings included artron energy. Whoever or whatever Starck was, he had time travelled recently.

"Fred, I want to go back to the TARDIS so I can study the details of the scan more thoroughly and also see what I can find out about Starck from the timeline. Do you fancy a trip?"

"If it'll get me some answers on Starck, I'm up for it."

"First, though, I was wondering if we could swing by Torchwood. You're right about my device, it's not in the best of shape. If Torchwood has a spare vortex manipulator, or even some parts I could use to fix mine, that would be a big help."

"We can certainly check. I know we don't have a spare device. The only one I've ever seen is Jack's. We do have a junk bin, though. Maybe there's something in it that will help you."

"I need field coils." Fred smiled.

"I wouldn't know anything about that, but you're welcome to look."

* * *

_**Tuesday, 2 February 2016, **__**Earth, Torchwood Institute—Las Angeles, 10:30, local time**_

When they materialized at the American Torchwood headquarters, the Doctor was taken with another attack of nausea. Fred forced him to sit with his head between his knees after he nearly passed out.

When he came to his senses, he became aware that someone was holding an ice pack to the back of his neck. He straightened up and pushed the hand holding the ice pack away.

"Thanks. I'm feeling better now."

"You have a fever." The female voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"How would you know?"

"We have a file on you. Your normal body temperature is 59° Farenheit, or 15° Celsius." The doctor heard a high-pitched tone in his right ear. The female held up the ear thermometer so he could see the reading. "See? You have a fever, Doctor."

"Where is Fred?"

"Who?"

"The agent I arrived with."

"He's looking through the junk drawer. Says you needed something. And his name isn't really Fred. It's Rex Matheson."

"Is Jack Harkness here?"

"No. We haven't seen Jack in a while. I'm Gwen Cooper, by the way. Do you remember me? We met briefly back in 2008. You looked a bit different back then."

It took the Doctor a moment to comb through his memories. "Gwen. That's right. I do remember. I had spikey hair and wore sandshoes back then." That got a smile from Gwen.

"Yes, you did." She stepped away and returned with a glass of water. The Doctor accepted it gratefully. The cool water did a lot to clear the taste of bile and soothe his abused throat.

Rex, AKA, "Fred" entered the room pushing a utility cart carrying several metal crates.

"Are you feeling better, Doctor?"

The Doctor eyed the Torchwood agent, looking for signs of distress from the trip via faulty vortex manipulator after such a large breakfast.

"Much better, _Rex_. How are _you_ feeling, by the way?" Matheson grinned at the use of his actual name.

"Feeling perky. Hungry again, actually. I was thinking a nice greasy burger would go down well right now."

The Doctor nearly gagged.

"Rex has something in common with Jack, Doctor. He can't die. He also has a cast-iron stomach."

After a few deep breaths, the Doctor's stomach settled, and he felt close to normal. He stood and made his way over to the cart. Well, okay, maybe not close to normal. Everything ached.

"What have you got here?"

Fred shrugged. "Search me. We have a collection of alien artifacts. The ones we can figure out and use, we keep. The ones we can't get working go in the bin. Feel free to search through. Maybe you'll find those coil things you mentioned."

After about an hour spent picking through what was mostly a collection of useless space junk, the Doctor struck gold. He uncovered one nearly pristine field coil at the bottom of a crate. After another hour of meticulous work cleaning the entire device and replacing the most suspect field coil with the new one, he said his goodbyes to Gwen, clasped Rex tightly, and pressed the home button on the vortex manipulator.


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes:**

Wishing you the best on Memorial Day for US readers, and happy Spring bank holiday to folks in the UK!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

_**Sagacity, The Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight, the TARDIS**_

The Doctor wobbled a little when they materialized in the TARDIS control room, but this time he managed to keep his feet. Once he was sure he wasn't going to puke or pass out embarrassingly again, he pushed Matheson away roughly.

"How are you feeling? Any better with the new coil?"

"Maybe. Hard to tell yet," The Doctor replied a little huffily. He eyed Rex and was annoyed to see that the agent seemed just as perky as he was before they left Torchwood. He also seemed to have taken in his surroundings without a ripple of shock or surprise.

The Doctor made his way to the console and pulled up the time study, quickly finding the segments including the 2016 Democratic primaries. He studied both timelines carefully.

"What are you looking for?"

"Just wanted to confirm that Shaw really did end his campaign. Looks like he made a press announcement within an hour of our departure."

"Any sign of Starck?"

"Looking for that now." He plugged the sonic into its slot and watched the screen as the analysis results began to appear. Rex looked on from his spot directly behind the Doctor. The Doctor considered toggling the screen to show English text instead of Gallifreyan, but he was still a bit miffed at Matheson's lack of reaction to the TARDIS. His crankiness abated when he looked at the analysis results.

"Well, this is interesting. The scan picked up plenty of artron energy, and also trace genetic material."

"How can you be sure it's Starck's genetic material, though? I mean, it's a hotel room. I'm sure there's plenty of trace genetic material from the guests and housekeeping workers."

"True. This DNA is close to that of a human, but not identical. What's the likelihood that a member of the housekeeping staff or another guest is not entirely human?"

"Good point." The Doctor turned his attention back to the two timelines, searching for Starck's bio signature.

"Starck doesn't show up on the true timeline, but he's all over the corrupt one, and not just in the US."

"So, is the future still all screwed up? Or did getting Shaw to pack it in straighten things out?"

The Doctor scanned through the next few years of the timeline. He sighed tiredly when he saw that not much had changed.

"The American presidential election of 2016 appears to be sorted, and I see no further discrepancies in critical events in the US. The rest of the world, however, still has some serious trouble."

"Show me."

"Show you what?"

"C'mon, Doctor. I'm human. This is my first time away from Earth and traveling through time. Help me understand how big the problem is. Show me the future."

"Okay. Fine. I can't take you there, but I can show you on the chronoscanner."

Instead of taking requests, the Doctor pulled up the coordinates for Saint Paul's Cathedral in London in December of 2025. The view from the steps of the cathedral revealed a London in ruins. Although it was noon local time, the sky was gray and thick. The Doctor stepped aside and invited Rex to stand in front of the chronoscanner, demonstrating how to move the view.

Like Senator Shaw, the Torchwood agent spent considerable time studying the landscape.

"And that's what 2025 looks like if you don't correct what's going wrong with the timeline?"

"Yes."

"What can Torchwood do to help?"

Sadly, without Jack and his vortex manipulator, there wasn't much the Torchwood team of 2016 could do. After some discussion, the doctor and Rex agreed the best use of Torchwood's time was to continue to search for signs of unusual activity and investigate it and call the Doctor if they should discover more information about Starck. To facilitate this, the Doctor grudgingly gave Rex the TARDIS phone number. He also emphasized that if the time agent saw or heard from Jack Harkness, to urge him to get in touch.

The Doctor deposited Matheson back at Torchwood in 2016, then returned to the TARDIS. While he didn't feel the violent nausea that accompanied most of his time vortex jaunts, he still felt alarmingly shaky, sore and tired.

He checked on Peter on his way to med bay. The twelve-year-old had rolled onto his back and was snoring gustily. Finally, he steeled himself and entered med bay.

The TARDIS turned the lights up automatically. He heard the whole-body scanner powering up in the corner of the room. Clearly the old girl wanted a more comprehensive evaluation than he had planned. He positioned himself between the plates of the scanner, took a deep breath, and held it while the scanner did its work. The news wasn't good. Not even close to good.

Fortunately, there were three remaining vials of acaer in the medicine chest. He took one and injected it into his arm, trying to ignore the unpleasant burning sensation as it traveled through his vascular system. His hearts sped up sharply and the Doctor found himself panting involuntarily. The med bay suddenly felt fiendishly hot. He armed sweat off his brow. Gradually, the initial rush from the acaer subsided, and the Doctor was left feeling marginally better, though still not great.

While there was no cure for chorenn toxicity, the acaer would take care of the worst of the symptoms for a few hours. Hopefully that would buy him enough time to complete a few more adjustments before he needed another dose. Assuming that the new field coil solved the problem with the vortex manipulator, the chorenn would leave his system over the course of several weeks. While a healing trance would help him clear the chorenn in a matter of hours, he didn't have hours to spare if he wanted to solve the time fracture before the suns rose on Sagacity.

Back in the console room, the Doctor studied the time study results and determined that the next critical divergence of note was in Nice, France, on Bastille Day, 14 July, 2016. On the true timeline, a terrorist drove a truck through the crowd at the Bastille Day parade, killing 86 people and wounding hundreds. On the corrupt timeline, the attack was aborted narrowly when someone observed something was amiss and alerted authorities.

Rather than study the incident in detail and develop an intervention strategy, the Doctor opted instead to look in on Kate Stewart and company at Royal London Hospital. While he knew from the chronoscanner that the timeline was still corrupt and the nuclear crisis had still happened, he was curious to see if his intervention with Shaw had any kind of knock-on effect, no matter how small, in that horrific future.

He did take a few moments to gather some additional supplies in a backpack. Sadly, he had no more radiation tablets or radiation stabilizers, but he did have more rations, a nearly unlimited power source that could replace at least a few of their petrol-powered generators, and a few other gadgets that might come in handy.

Packing a bag like this was just the sort of thing that would land him in hot water with an inquiry, if Romana ever got wind of it. As he had so many times before, and always with the best of intentions, introducing alien futuristic tech to help out in a crisis carried its own burden of timeline risk.

Backpack securely on his back, the Doctor entered coordinates for one day after his last visit to Royal London. If he bounced back, he would do as he'd done before, backing up his arrival time by small increments until he was successful. Of course, it was also possible that he still could not reach Kate beyond the date and time of his first visit. If that was the case, then it was likely that Peter would be stranded here in the TARDIS until the timeline was completely repaired, or, if the Doctor failed to correct the timeline, possibly forever.


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Notes:**

Here is another chapter, a little earlier than usual. Wherever you are, I hope you are well and safe. It's a beautiful spring day here, but we live in challenging times. Hopefully this chapter will serve as a diversion from more serious matters.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**From the journal of Brigadier Alistair Lethenbridge-Stewart**

_**23 December 1975, UNIT Headquarters, London**_

_It's been an emotional week. Lots going on at work and also at home, and I find myself feeling pulled in too many directions lately. It seems as if everyone needs something from me, and no one is ever satisfied with what I come up with. I suspect I am not alone in that sentiment – the holidays bring it out for everyone in one form or another._

_The UNIT joint command convened on Monday to discuss the recent announcement that the United Nations voted to cease funding our global operation, leaving it up to the individual countries to foot the bill. Needless to say, it was a tense meeting and emotions ran hot as plan after plan was considered and discarded. Half of my colleagues wanted to pool resources from each government. That was originally my idea, mind you, but General Collins, my American "colleague", if you can call him that, nicked it. The rest wanted to either go it alone or disband altogether. We will resume the conversation in the new year._

_It always comes down to building the case for our continued existence. If our funding comes from taxpayer dollars, then we must have a strong value statement. Given that the general public is mostly unaware of the many alien incursions we've thwarted, it will be an uphill battle. Some are raising the idea of creating a fictional purpose and story to secure funding while keeping our true goings-on under the table. I, for one, do not support that idea, as it will likely lead to scandal and dissolution down the road, and potentially soon. Ultimately, the best way forward is probably to bring UNIT into the public eye and share factual evidence that demonstrates the value we bring. Thankfully, the UN agreed to fund UNIT through the first two quarters of 1976 to give us time to come up with a way forward._

_On the home front, Doris and I had a silly row about Christmas plans that led to me storming out, driving back to UNIT and sleeping in my office. In hindsight, I see that I overreacted. I should have realized how much stress she's been under. As usual, I haven't been there for her, or for Kate. I brought home flowers the next night and have tried to be more attentive since then._

_Kate asked if we could invite the Doctor for the holidays. She pointed out that otherwise he will be alone. While she's right about that, I wonder how bothered he would be about it. Naturally, I did invite him. I was going to without the prodding from Kate, but I won't let her know that. She's very kind-hearted and has a special relationship with the Doctor. Should I be worried? He's not human. How much do I really know about him? All the same, the Doctor and I have been through some tough scrapes together, and I'd trust him with my life._

_**28 December 1975, the Lethenbridge-Stuart London residence**_

_It's been an eventful few days, for sure. Mere hours after my last journal entry, the UNIT compound was assaulted by an outside threat. Strange gel-like creatures appeared out of nowhere and caused several disappearances. It turned out that the source was an ancient member of the Doctor's people, the time lords. The time lords conscripted the Doctor to go and sort it, and I ended up traveling with him in his TARDIS to a universe made completely of anti-matter._

_To make things even more astounding, the time lords brought in two previous incarnations of the Doctor, one of whom was the version I originally met. I'm not sure how that works. It was a fascinating adventure which I will not soon forget. I admit I felt superfluous for much of it, as I was more removed from the action than I wanted to be, holed up in the TARDIS with Benton and the Doctor's previous incarnation while my men were in danger._

_While the three versions of the Doctor argued amongst themselves like petty children, they did manage to come up with a plan, but it involved great personal sacrifice. I am not a man of science, and certainly have no experience fighting an enemy in an anti-matter universe. I felt powerless to do anything but go along with it._

_When I left the singularity via what the time lords called a "temporal bridge", I thought I would never see the Doctor again in any of his incarnations. My heart hurt and my spirits were low. _

_But he managed to escape the anti-matter universe and arrived back in the lab, safe and sound, in his TARDIS. It was only the "latest" version, mind you, not the other two versions. That's a relief. As quirky as he is, after being around his previous incarnation again for just a few short hours, I can say unequivocally that I prefer the current version._

_As a reward for his help to the time lords, the Doctor got a new dematerialization circuit for his TARDIS – the component they'd withheld from him as a way of confining him on Earth. Basically, he's been reinstated to gallivant about all of time and space._

_I worried that he'd leave straight away, but happily he still came for Christmas dinner. Kate had been so looking forward to it. She made him a pan of fudge, under Doris' supervision, of course. _

_Doris knitted him a scarf, which he seemed touched by. Don't know that he'll ever wear it. It's ridiculously long and has colorful stripes, and the Doctor (at least _this_ one) is a bit of a dandy. Not at all his style, but what would I know about it? As Doris never ceases to remind me, I am tone deaf when it comes to fashion and somewhat color-blind, to boot. Good thing I wear a uniform and need not worry about such things._

_The Doctor's gift to the family was an account of our first adventure together, neatly typed, illustrated and cleverly bound. The illustrations were well done in the manner of a comic book. He'd massaged the story a little to emphasize my role in it. Made me out to be quite the hero. _

_Though he didn't say, I am sure he did all the work himself. Who knew the old boy had it in him? Of course, the book was really for Kate, and on the inside cover he wrote a nice message to her and signed it with his elaborate and quite illegible handwriting. _

_Kate will be sad to lose her playmate. I don't have the heart to tell her that the Doctor is leaving soon. And perhaps he will decide to stay anyway, or at least look in on us from time to time. This will be a blow to UNIT, as well. There certainly is no replacing him. While I've often written in this journal about how frustrating he can be, I consider the Doctor one of my closest friends. I owe him my life several times over. I will miss him terribly._

* * *

_**28 December 2025, Royal London Hospital, London, England**_

"Kate, wake up. You have a visitor!"

When Kate managed to open her eyes, Jax smiled. She looked legitimately excited. Kate blinked a few times to focus her vision and cleared her throat, which reminded her that it was still raw from her uncontrollable vomiting spell in the night.

"Who?"

"Well, it's not the Prime Minister, if that's what you're hoping. It is someone you've been looking out for, though."

_Cheeky bitch._

"He's here?" Jax's grin was back.

"Yes. He's with Osgood now, but headed this way, so best make yourself decent. I can help you dress."

Osgood and the Doctor must have had a lot to talk about, because by the time they arrived, Kate had managed to get fully dressed and seated in one of the two chairs by her bed. The crutches were within easy reach.

Osgood poked her head around the curtain to make sure Kate was decent before ushering the Doctor in and then leaving. He stood just inside the cubicle for a few moments, studying her. She returned the favor.

He looked wan and thin to the point of frailness. Dark shadows stood out under his eyes. Kate wondered how long it had been for him.

"You look like hell," she said by way of greeting.

"Look who's talking," he answered back. "Osgood told me about the building collapse. How are you?"

"On the mend." He came right up to her, scanned her with his sonic and then sat in the opposite chair as he studied the readings.

"Pneumonia. Pleurisy. Moderate radiation sickness and a broken femur. You don't do things halfway, do you?"

"What's your excuse, then?" The Doctor diverted his eyes, studying the medical equipment at her bedside.

"I brought more rations and an alternate power source. Osgood knows how to set it up."

"Where's Peter?"

"Back in the TARDIS, sleeping. He's fine. A bit precocious."

"You noticed."

"He's doing well, though. Hit it off with the time lords on Sagacity."

"How long has it been for you?"

"For me? That's a difficult question. I've been jumping up and down Earth's timeline, trying to sort it. For Peter, it's been less than a day."

"What have you found out?"

"Someone's mucking about with Earth's recent timeline. Not sure why yet. Whoever it is has altered a number of critical events that led to this reality. I'm working through them one at a time to fix things. It takes a bit of time."

Kate wasn't sure what to say to that. A few moments ticked by in silence before the Doctor continued.

"Sorry so much time has passed. I wasn't sure I'd be able to get back at all, but after fixing something in the past, I found I could. Thought I programmed the vortex manipulator for a day after you last saw me, but I guess I overshot it a bit."

Some things never changed.

"Where's the TARDIS? Why are you using a vortex manipulator?" The Doctor looked a little embarrassed.

"It was impounded. The time lords are launching an inquiry into the origins of this timeline error. They think I might have contributed to it. They're holding the TARDIS until I'm cleared."

"Will you be?"

"That's a good question."

"You left Peter alone on another planet while you're off fixing things?"

"It sounds worse than it is. I'm time travelling. Where he is, only a minute passes between when I leave and when I return. I couldn't take him with me, Kate. It would have been too dangerous."

"Is he safe there?"

"Safer there than here. He's fine."

"How about you? Are you safe?"

"I'm safe enough. Don't worry about me."

"Well, I will, if you don't mind."

"But I do mind."

"All the same. You really do look awful, Doctor." A look of irritation flashed across his features but was quickly gone.

"What's been going on here, other than having a building fall on you and not taking very good care of yourself?"

"I'm sure Osgood has caught you up on things." Kate stifled a cough. "The radiation is getting worse. Thanks for those stabilizers, by the way, they're a huge help. We found an amateur radio and Jax is in touch with people in other countries. You probably know more about it than me, right now. I can't get anyone to fill me in. Every time I try, they tell me to rest up and focus on getting better."

The Doctor clasped her shoulder as he rose from the chair. She could feel the coolness of his fingers through her jumper.

"And you should, Kate. Mind the doctors and take care of yourself. They need you, but they need you well. Osgood's looking after things in the meantime."

"And what about you, Doctor, who's taking care of you?" Again, that brief look of irritation appeared and was quickly hidden.

"I'm fine, Kate. I'm always fine. Lots to do, though, and I need to get on with it. Next time you see me, this reality may be gone, and you won't remember any of it."

"Let's hope so. If not, I will have a few choice words for you."

"Really, take care, Kate."

With that, he stepped beyond the curtain and was gone.


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for the hiatus, other pressing priorities kept me away. Here's a nice long chapter to make up for it, and hopefully the next one will be up sooner.

Also, just a heads up that part of this chapter revisits the Bastille Day 2016 Nice truck attack. While there are no graphic descriptions of violence, it's still a very sad and serious event in real life. If you'd rather skip this chapter, please do so. I will build in a quick recap of the important events of this chapter in the beginning of the next one.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

_**28 December, 2025, Royal London Hospital, London, England**_

The Doctor found Osgood pacing pensively outside of the ward. He knew she was worried that he might slip and tell Kate more about the current situation than she wanted.

"Well, how did it go?" She asked a little frenetically. The Doctor summoned a grave expression and spoke in a low, quiet voice.

"She knows everything, Petronella."

The shocked expression on the science officer's face was worth it. Osgood used her inhaler, something the Doctor noticed that she did when nervous. He wondered how safe an inhaler might be under the current circumstances and made a note to scan the breathing aid when Osgood wouldn't notice.

"All of it? About Harlowe? The missing generators? The depleted food stores?" As her anxiety increased, the Doctor felt a lot less good about his little joke. Clara would be proud of him.

"Osgood, I was having you on. Kate doesn't know anything."

She looked at him blankly for a moment before her face filled with anger.

"You know what, you can be a real arsehole, Doctor."

"So, I've heard. I apologize. It was wrong to do that."

The furrow between her brows softened.

"It's okay. And sorry I called you an arsehole."

They were both silent for a few moments. Osgood took off her glasses and used the corner of her blouse to clean them.

"How did it go with the power generator?" That got a smile.

"Oh, good! We're back in business, thanks to that. Right now, we're not running any of the remaining petrol generators. And thanks again for the rations. We're going to need them."

Because there had been a desertion. James Harlowe, previously the second in command of the search and rescue detail, wasn't very easy to get along with on a good day. He had different ideas from Kate and the rest of the leadership team about what to do about provisions, outreach, and preparing for a worsening situation. Harlowe did not agree with the idea of continuing to look for and bring in new people on the grounds that they had limited sheltering space and supplies. Bradley expressed his suspicion to Kate that Harlowe was using his "search and rescue" hours to meet with someone, or someones – above ground. The entire leadership team had been aware that someone was pilfering supplies, and Kate suspected Harlowe.

Things came to a head on Boxing Day, when he got into an argument with Bradley about making space for a family of three a salvage team encountered while scavenging at a Tesco. The mother was pregnant, very ill with radiation sickness, and not likely to live. The father and daughter were in slightly better shape, though malnourished and in urgent need of medical attention.

Osgood had given Harlowe an ultimatum – accept that they were an open group with the mission of locating and helping others and make an effort to cooperate with the team or leave. The Doctor was certain that Kate would have done the same.

The group awoke the next morning to find Harlowe and their one ATV gone, along with two of their generators, several gallons of petrol and nearly half of the food rations. Jax suspected he had located the other large group they knew was sheltering near Piccadilly Station and joined them with a gift of valuable supplies.

"You're going to need more than that to keep this community going. Once I have the TARDIS again, I can pick up supplies and then nip back here with them."

"No, you can't Doctor. You need to focus on fixing the timeline. If you get that sorted, then none of this will matter. Right?"

Of course, she was right, but that didn't make it any easier for the Doctor to stick to his task. As tired and unwell as he was, he was sorely tempted to use the vortex manipulator to at least do a few small supply runs. It would mean returning to the TARDIS after each trip, spending valuable minutes of the diminishing Sagacity night, and risk additional complications with his dodgy device, but the thought of walking away and letting this human community suffer through a nuclear winter with little food was too much to bear.

This kind of moral crisis was something he struggled with much more in his tenth incarnation. He liked to think that he'd become more pragmatic with age, using the accumulated wisdom of his advancing years to take a more strategic approach. And yet…

* * *

The Doctor checked on Peter and found the human boy still asleep, but apparently in the middle of a nightmare. He'd kicked off the bedding. Perspiration stood out on his brow. His body twitched frequently, and he shook his head back and forth, negating whatever was going on in the landscape of his subconscious.

After hesitating for a few moments, the Doctor approached the bedside, mentally preparing to drop in on Peter's dream. He did feel a little guilty, as the boy had no say in the matter, so this was technically eavesdropping. All the same, his intent was to understand the trauma and try to help Peter heal.

He had just returned to the TARDIS after dropping off a final load of supplies to the ravaged post-nuclear community dwelling beneath the Royal London Hospital in 2025. He'd made twelve trips in total, between obtaining the supplies, often "liberating" them without paying for them, and stealthily delivering them to the community to avoid detection and a potential row with Osgood.

While by now he was feeling symptoms that told him that either the first dose of acaer was wearing off or the vortex manipulator was once again leaking chorenn, he would do it all again if it meant fewer people would suffer and die in that alternate reality.

"I've gone soft in my old age," he said aloud. He took a composing breath and let it out, flexing his fingers as he prepared to make the psychic connection.

It was never easy with humans. Their synapses were too underdeveloped for a high-fidelity connection. As he gently placed his hands at Peter's temples he closed his eyes to increase his sensitivity.

He felt a coolness in the air and the damp of the underground. It was dark. Something was dripping, slowly and incessantly. He took a breath and coughed out the dust of collapsed cinderblock.

"Help me, please. Mum, Dad,"

The Doctor heard crying.

There were sounds of other people in distress off in the distance, but the weeping boy was near. The Doctor coughed again and felt around until he made contact with an intact wall. He trailed his hand along the wall as he followed the sound of weeping to its source.

Peter lay on the ground turned on his side, facing the train tracks, which were about ten paces away. His right arm was pinned under a heavy stone buttress. The Doctor knelt beside him. The boy's face was covered in blood. Broken spectacles lay beside him. _I never knew he needed glasses_, the Doctor thought.

Peter became aware of his presence and clasped his arm tightly with his uninjured hand.

"You've got to help – my parents, my sister," The boy gestured to a large pile of rubble only a meter away. His teeth chattered, a clear sign of shock.

The Doctor saw a man's shoe sticking out of the rubble, half off of the foot it covered. A pool of blood extended out from the rubble.

"Peter, I'm so sorry, but your parents and sister are dead. You know that, though, because this is a dream."

"No! Not true! They're in there. You can help them. Go help them!" The boy's voice cracked from shouting. He shoved the Doctor as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard, toward the rubble. When the Doctor remained where he was, Peter covered his face with his good hand and burst into fresh tears.

The Doctor sighed inwardly. _It always comes down to Dad skills. I'm a bit rusty, but…_

He clasped Peter's shoulder. "I know you're grieving, son. I know you're in terrible pain. This happened quite some time ago now, and you've started healing. It's okay to miss your family, but you never have to revisit this place again."

Peter didn't move or look at the Doctor, but his tears slowed, and his sobs were tapering off. They sat that way for as long as it took, until the Doctor felt this dream Peter falling asleep, moving on to the next dream. The Doctor rifled through the boy's memories, searching for a suitable one for his purposes. Finally, he found one.

In addition to being a closeted maths and science brainiac, and in spite of his compact build, apparently Peter was quite the rugby player. The Doctor slowly nudged Peter toward a very pleasant memory of scoring a try at the very end of the second half for the win in an important match. Then he watched as a new dream shifted and developed around the memory.

From there, the Doctor was a silent passenger in the dream. He watched Peter somehow playing rugby one-handed, pushing easily through scrums, dodging contact with an opponent twice his size, and sending the ball cleanly through the goalposts. The crowd went wild.

When he was sure Peter was resting peacefully again, the Doctor forced himself to move away mentally, back into his body where it sat on the edge of Peter's bed. All of the familiar aches and pains were there to greet him, along with his constant companion, nausea, and an overwhelming exhaustion that compelled him to lie down next to the boy and fall into deep, dreamless sleep.

Instead, he forced himself to stand and stretch._ Not yet, _he told himself,_ too much to do, and the night is slipping away._

* * *

Back in the console room, the Doctor refamiliarized himself with the next critical event on the timeline, a terrorist attack that occurred in Nice, France on Bastille Day in 2016 on the true timeline, but did not occur on the corrupt one. He compared the two timelines and found the key differentiator. On the corrupt timeline, a parade attendee noticed a man passing weapons into a truck just off the parade route and reported it to a police officer. But his breath froze when he saw the name of this bystander.

"_PE. _No, that_ can't _be_."_

Mouth dry and pulses racing, he pulled up the list of the dead on the true timeline.

"Please don't let her be on the list."

And to his relief, Clara was not listed among the dead. He breathed a sigh of relief. But then he saw Danny's name.

"PE," he said again. He dug into news coverage of the thwarted terrorist attack on the corrupt timeline and learned that Danny and Clara were on Holiday in Nice. In an interview with _Ouest France_, Danny explained that he'd just proposed and been turned down by Clara and was sulking at the parade when he noticed the would-be terrorist.

On the true timeline, the Doctor scoured through human interest stories about the victims of the truck attack and their survivors. It took a while to find it, but just as he was about to give up, there it was.

_**Rupert Daniel Pink, Age 30, Profession, Teacher, London, England**_

_Clara Oswald was on holiday in Nice with her boyfriend, Danny Pink. Both teachers at Coal Hill School in London, the couple decided to celebrate Bastille Day and take in the French countryside. The trip was more special than miss Oswald realized. Just before the parade began, Danny Pink proposed to her at a restaurant. _

_Only minutes after their engagement, the happy couple joined the throng on Promenade des Anglais to celebrate. And then tragedy struck. A former soldier in the British Army who served in Afghanistan, Pink saw what was happening and moved into action. He pushed his way through the panicked crowd and attempted to board the truck from the passenger side, likely in hopes of disabling the driver. He was shot at point-blank range and died instantly._

"_He died right in front of me." Clara Oswald said when asked to describe his last moments. "I don't have any words that can convey what that's like. In a way, it's still going on. I can never unsee it. One moment he was there beside me, and then next he was gone."_

The Doctor paced for a bit, trying to decide on the best course of action, always aware, though, of the fleeting Sagacity night. Minutes ticked by. Steeling himself, he knew he must go to Nice and convince Clara to accept Danny's proposal at the restaurant, even though that meant that Danny would die barely an hour later.

_And you thought you hated me after our trip to the moon, Clara. That's nothing on how you'll feel about me after this._


	16. Chapter 15

**Author's Notes:**

The first part of this chapter may look very familiar. This timey-wimey stuff can be a little disconcerting!

If you skipped the last chapter due to the references to the 2016 Nice truck attack, here is a summary of what transpired:

In December 2025, the Doctor had a conversation with Osgood after his visit in the previous chapter with Kate. While Kate's been on the ward recovering from her injuries, there's been a desertion. A member of their group at Royal London left to join another survivor group, taking much of Royal London's critical resources with him.

Balancing a moral dilemma of whether to add wear and tear onto his questionably-functioning vortex manipulator to gather and deliver much-needed supplies to the Royal London group, which only has the need for them on the faulty timeline, versus ignoring their needs and pressing on in correcting the faulty timeline, the Doctor ended up making the supply and delivery trips.

Before setting out on the next leg of his journey to 2016 Nice, the Doctor looked in on Peter in the TARDIS and found him in the grips of a nightmare. He joined Peter in his dream telepathically and managed to nudge Peter's subconscious toward a more pleasant one, learning a little more about the boy in the process.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

_**Earth, Nice, France**_

_**18:00, 14 July 2016**_

"That's really sweet, Danny, Thanks." Clara paused, looking down thoughtfully at her clasped hands.

"I love you. I really do, and I think it would be better if we waited - _shit!_"

Clara met the gaze of her reflection in the vanity mirror.

"You can do this. Okay. Let's give it another try."

They arrived at the hotel in Nice an hour ago. Danny decided to squeeze in a workout at the hotel gym before their 7pm dinner reservation. Clara used the time alone in their room to bathe and dress for the occasion, and also practice turning down his proposal. She'd found the receipt for the engagement ring in his wallet while searching for tip money for the porter.

Practicing in front of a mirror didn't seem to be working for her, so she paced for a bit and tried to clear her mind. She knew she was acting silly. After all, she didn't know for sure he was going to propose at dinner. She wasn't even one hundred percent sure the ring was for her.

"How do I do this, Doctor?" She tried to imagine how the time lord would react to her histrionics. He'd been on her mind lately. She even had a dream about him the other night. In the dream, he was alone and in trouble. Clara kept calling out to him, but he didn't hear her.

She pictured him sitting at the end of the bed, swinging his gangly legs.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal, Clara. It's PE. Just tell him you don't want to be Mrs. PE," she imagined him saying.

"It's not that easy. He's a nice guy. A really nice guy. I should be thrilled that he's asking me."

"But you're not."

"I just feel so stifled. I feel like if I marry him then we'll settle down and have 2.5 children and take turns being teacher of the year until it's time to retire, and that will be it. My whole life. Boring."

"Clara? Who are you talking to?"

She snapped out of her intense conversation with the imaginary Doctor to see Danny entering the suite, gym bag in hand.

"Oh, no one. Have a nice workout?"

He came over and kissed her. "Good. You look very nice. Do I have time for a shower before dinner?"

Clara smiled. "Of course, you do. Don't take too long, though, we have to leave early because of the traffic."

The Bastille Day celebrations were already well underway. Danny had made the dinner reservation for 7pm so that they would finish just ahead of the parade, which would pass right in front of the hotel.

When Danny disappeared into the bathroom, Clara grabbed her mobile and stepped out onto the balcony. She had resisted this temptation for two years now, but she couldn't delay any more. She opened her contacts and found the Doctor's number.

Just as she was about to press the dial button, she became aware that she was no longer alone on the balcony.

The Doctor was there beside her. She gasped in surprise.

"You! I was just about to ring you."

She studied his face. He looked older and unwell. He was very pale. His eyes were sunken in shadows. His lips looked parched. She restrained herself from hugging him, knowing this Doctor was not the hugging type.

"How long has it been for you?" His thin lips curled into a cryptic smile.

"That's hard to say. A little while, at least. Longer for you."

"You've been travelling alone?" she asked. He never did well on his own.

"Yes, and no." The Doctor descended stiffly into one of the two wrought iron chairs. He looked so tired. Clara sat, as well.

"Clara, something terrible has happened in the future." His voice cracked hoarsely, and he grimaced, as if his throat hurt.

"I've been trying to sort it. I need your help."

Her heart leapt. But then, reason set in. She shook her head.

"Doctor, I can't. Years have gone by. A lot has happened. Danny's proposing to me tonight. He doesn't know that I know, but," The Doctor interrupted her. His voice was low and calm. His eyes glistened.

"I know, Clara, and I know you want to turn him down. I'm here to ask – to beg you to accept the proposal instead."

"_What?_ Doctor you _can't stand_ him. You never had anything good to say about him. You can't even remember his name, or that he's a maths teacher. And now you suddenly want me to marry him? I don't know what to say."

"Say yes. To him, I mean. If you do, it will fix this part of the timeline."

"And if I don't?"

"In 2025 there will be a global nuclear war. Millions will die."

"All because I turned him down? That makes no sense!"

And she would have been fine with her reasoning, but then he clasped her arm with one bony, cool hand.

"Clara, I can't explain. There's no time. I need you to trust me. Please. This is my last chance. Please just accept his proposal. A large part of you wants to. You're supposed to. And you really do love him. _Please._"

He looked so ill and tired. So sad. And she did trust him.

"If I do this, will I see you again?" The time lord looked caught off guard by her question. He averted his eyes for a moment and then returned her gaze. Again, there was that glistening. Tears? From this Doctor?

"I don't know, Clara, but I hope so."

Clara searched his eyes again, but all she saw was an earnest plea. Finally, she nodded.

"Alright. I'll do it. For you. But you better come to the bloody wedding."

He smiled at that and a tear slipped out. He dashed it away discretely.

"I will be there. But now I've got to go. Thanks, Clara, and congratulations."

He pressed a button on the device on his wrist and vanished.

* * *

_**Sagacity, The Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight, The TARDIS**_

The Doctor collected his strength in the consol room. He sipped from a steaming cup of tea the TARDIS thoughtfully provided upon his return from Nice.

His first attempt in Nice brought with it the full return of the chorenn poisoning symptoms. He dry-heaved on Clara's shoes and then collapsed, only to be slapped awake by none other than Danny Pink, who was fresh from the shower and apparently halfway through shaving. Pink was not happy to see him.

The Doctor pressed the Home button on the vortex manipulator before the shouting started.

For his second attempt he arrived a few moments earlier in the hotel room. This time Clara was well and truly alone, but shortly after his arrival everything went dark. He awoke with his head in her lap. His round-faced friend seemed convinced he'd had a seizure. When he'd recovered sufficiently, he sat up, dusted himself off, and somewhat whoosily proceeded to tell her she had to accept PE's proposal.

In hindsight, his delivery was probably a little (well a lot) gruff. He was sick, impatient to solve this timeline error so he could see what kind of impact it had on events in 2025, and trying to avoid another encounter with PE, who was likely seconds away from returning from the gym. He definitely should have read his audience better. Clara was furious.

She proceeded to tell him in no uncertain terms how she felt about him meddling in her life. She repeated the same instructions to stay away from her that she shouted at him just after the incident with Courtney the disruptive influence on the moon.

Her retort gutted him. Whether it was the chorenn poisoning or his as yet unresolved remorse from how they had last parted, he simply had no comeback. He stared at her for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth, but nothing came out.

He pressed the Home button on the vortex manipulator.

Back in the TARDIS he made a trip to med bay on shaky legs and managed to administer the second to last dose of acaer and then forced himself to wait fifteen precious minutes to make sure the medication was taking effect before he returned to Nice.

The third time went well at first. He managed to materialize without vomiting, passing out or having a seizure. He arrived right after Danny shut the bathroom door to take his shower, giving him a good fifteen minutes alone with Clara.

He remembered to use a softer tone and consider what Clara would need to hear in order to change her answer when Danny proposed. He explained about the corrupt timeline and the horrible situation in 2025. He explained about the time audit and trying to fix the critical events that had gone wrong on the timeline and led to nuclear Armageddon.

When she asked him what had gone wrong here in Nice in 2016, explained that if she turned down PE's proposal he would foil a terrorist and save 86 lives, but also cause the timeline error that led to the nuclear outcome.

His error lay in telling her that if she accepted his proposal, Danny would fail to thwart the terrorist and be killed in the process, but this point on the timeline would be restored.

That led to shouting and hitting, which led to Danny storming out of the bathroom to discover the Doctor.

He pressed the Home button on the vortex manipulator.

On trip number four, the Doctor knew his window of time for remedying things was closing. He still felt exhausted and unwell in spite of the second dose of acaer. He also experienced the eerie sensation of being on the wrong side of a corrupt timeline. He could almost smell the Reapers as they circled high above the planet, preparing to swoop down and devour everything.

With all that as a backdrop, he pocketed his pride and went to it. He begged her to accept Danny's proposal. He explained why at a high level. And he did not tell her that Danny would die if she did as he asked. He felt another small sliver of his soul die, but she finally agreed.

And something still felt wrong, wrong, wrong, but there was no time to stick around and investigate unless he wanted another encounter with PE, which would likely end up in a new and exciting corruption to the timeline.

He pressed the Home button on the vortex manipulator.

Back in the TARDIS and feeling marginally better thanks to the acaer and successfully addressing another critical incident on the timeline, the Doctor decided to look in on 2025 and see what had changed.

Wanting to avoid an awkward meeting with Osgood over the extra supplies he'd covertly dropped off, he opted to go to Coal Hill School and see if correcting Bastille Day in 2016 made a difference in the fate of the school. He was fairly hopeful, since Clara and Danny were central figures at Coal Hill; correcting the fault in their timeline might well at least save the school from a complete levelling. He entered the coordinates and was off.

* * *

_**28 December, 2025, Coal Hill School, London, England**_

As soon as he recovered sufficiently from the journey the Doctor sighed with disappointment. There had been no change at Coal Hill School in 2025. The building was still largely gone, one cinderblock wall standing alone at the front of the school and serving as a pictorial memorial to those who had lost their lives.

And too late, the Doctor discovered his two most serious blunders.

Blunder one: He should have checked on Coal Hill through the chronoscanner from the safety of the TARDIS.

Blunder two: In his exhaustion and impatience to see what had changed, he'd forgotten to wear a radiation suit. His skin prickled hotly. His hearts pounded rapidly. His head reeled.

He pressed the Home button on the vortex manipulator.


	17. Chapter 16

**Author's Notes:**

A thousand apologies for the hiatus. I've had some health issues, major surgery and am now home recuperating. This is a short chapter, but another is in the works. I am SOOO happy to be diving back into this story!

* * *

**Chapter 16**

_**Karn, Encampment of the Sisterhood**_

The Doctor became aware that his respiratory bypass system was engaged just as his lungs heaved and he involuntarily gasped in a great breath of air. It was a while before he knew of anything else.

The next thing he noticed was the feeling of someone patting his body down with a towel. He faded away again.

When he again resurfaced, the feeling of psychic crowding made him aware that there were time lords near him. He heard/felt a muted telepathic conversation between them. He picked up a sentiment of concern.

And then he heard a very familiar human voice.

"How long is he going to be like this?"

The question, one of so many issued by that voice since the Doctor started on his mission to help Kate and her ragtag group of survivors in London 2025, focused his attention sufficiently that he awaited an answer.

Hanar's thinly veiled impatience made the Doctor smile inwardly.

"He's waking up, Peter, but you need to be patient. He's been through a lot."

"But this is taking forever! And it's really boring here. I mean, there's literally _nothing_ to do here."

"Go find O'Hila. She was looking for you earlier. If you ask nicely, she might teach you how to calculate the space-time coordinates for the center of the citadel."

The Doctor put together what he heard with the noticeable, acrid and familiar smells of Sulphur and boninite basalt.

_I'm on Karn._

He opened his eyes.

When his vision focused the site of highly mineralized stalactites overhead confirmed his location.

He felt Hanar become aware of his consciousness right before the man himself stepped into his field of vision.

"Doctor, you're awake. You're on Karn. You're safe."

The Doctor cleared his throat. Hanar's eyes showed concern, and possibly fear. His psyche mirrored those emotions.

"The inquiry?" The Doctor was surprised at how weak his voice sounded. His body felt cold and heavy. He shivered a little. A soothing feminine hand wrapped a soft blanket more tightly around him. _Erdith,_ the Doctor identified from her psychic presence. She seemed equally concerned and equally frightened, but also exhilarated. The Doctor surmised she had never been on Karn before.

"It's underway back on Sagacity. We have much to tell you. But first, how do you feel?"

"Like I've been in a very deep healing trance. Why are we on Karn?"

The Doctor tried to sit up but found he didn't have the strength. Erdith restrained him with a gentle hand on his chest.

"Best to take it slowly, Doctor. You were nearly beyond the point where we could help you. Chorenn poisoning. You really must take better care."

"Will you let me talk to him already? Jeez!"

Apparently Hanar had prevented the boy from approaching, but Peter was made of sterner stuff. The boy squeezed in front of Hanar, taking the chair by the bedside. His cheeks were scarlet and his face pulled into a dark scowl.

"You weren't supposed to leave until I was awake. We had a deal."

The Doctor was a little startled by how angry the boy seemed.

"We never had a deal. I told you I was going to make the timeline adjustments overnight so we could fix things before morning on Sagacity."

"Well, I woke up because that alarm was going off. The radiation one. When I got the console room you were passed out on the floor. I thought you were dead."

_That's right. I visited Coal Hill. Forgot the radiation suit._

"Oh. Sorry."

"I didn't know what to do. Finally, I figured out how to open the door and I went back into the lab. I asked the guard to go find Hanar for me."

"You did everything right, Peter," Hanar validated, "you acted very bravely in a crisis. Thanks to you, the Doctor is still alive, and we still have a chance of putting things to right."

The Doctor thought he saw a glimmer of tears in Peter's eyes and felt guilty.

"Peter, O'Hila waits."

"But-"

"Remember what we discussed. You can visit more with the Doctor later.'

"Okay." Peter left reluctantly. Hanar's eyes followed the boy out of the room.

"He's the first human I've met. Very interesting. I can see why you spend so much time with them."

This time when the Doctor tried to sit up, Hanar supported him while Erdith rearranged the pillows. The Doctor felt tired, but very well-cared for. He started to ask his next question, but his voice failed him. He cleared his throat and Erdith offered water. When he felt ready, he continued.

"Tell me what happened. Why are we on Karn? How long have we been here? What's going on with the inquiry?"

"I think you've spent too much time in Peter's company, Doctor." But Erdith was smiling, and the Doctor sensed she liked the boy very much in spite of his precociousness.

They communicated in the way of their people, a mix of thoughts, feelings and spoken word.

As Peter described, Hanar was summoned by the guard. When he arrived at the TARDIS he found a distraught Peter and the Doctor lying unconscious in the console room.

Making a snap decision, Hanar summoned Erdith and Ghianna. The Doctor was surprised to discover that Hanar and the other students were strongly opposed to Romana's handling of the situation and were already covertly investigating the timeline error and doing what they could to influence the inquiry in the Doctor's favor.

The Doctor sensed a long back-story that involved too many years stuck on Sagacity with such a rigid preceptor. While curious about that, the Doctor didn't pursue more detail, reserving that investigation for a later time.

The conversation with Hanar and Erdith moved completely to spoken word when the topic switched to the faulty timeline itself.

"We observed your efforts to correct the timeline errors. Interestingly, your actions surfaced some disturbing themes we overlooked in the original timeline audit."

The Doctor sensed embarrassment from Hanar at the oversight.

"Your work with the Torchwood agent in the United States uncovered the direct cause of the most serious timeline failures, and it goes far beyond the 2016 American election."

"Starck."

"That's not his name."

"What do you know about him?"

The Doctor felt a sudden reduction in residual telepathic input and surmised that both Hanar and Erdith wanted to withhold information from him. After a brief private consultation between the two student time lords, Hanar turned back to the Doctor.

"There is much we can't tell you because your timeline is involved. What we can tell you is that it looks like the timeline corruption actually began much earlier than we originally detected."

Erdith clasped his arm and the Doctor sensed she worried that he would misconstrue things.

"We saw all of your attempts to correct the timeline in the United States. We were surprised when that didn't undo more of the damage at other points of the timeline."

Hanar picked up the narrative.

"The problem, or one of them, became clear when you started working on the Nice Bastille day event. There are paradoxes upon paradoxes, Doctor, and the universe as we know it is in jeopardy if we don't set them right."


	18. Chapter 17

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for another significant delay. No promises as to when the next chapter will be ready, but I am fully invested in seeing it through. Thanks for your patience!

* * *

**Chapter 17**

_**From the journal of Brigadier General Alastair Lethenbridge Stewart**_

_**28 February, 1985, Unified Intelligence Task Force, Earth, London, England**_

I think this is the longest gap between entries I've ever had. Shameful! My dear Doris passed away five years ago today. Looking at the previous page, I see my last entry was the day before she was taken from me. Needless to say, my whole world shifted on its axis when I awoke that fateful morning to discover she had died in her sleep. The coroner said it was a massive heart attack, and she likely did not suffer.

The anniversary of Doris' passing and today's report from the detective I hired to keep tabs on Kate in Bristol led me to open you again, dear journal. You hold my secrets from the last thirty years; it would be remiss to withhold my news even from you. Perhaps someday you will fall into Kate's hands, if she'll have anything to do with my effects when I leave this earth.

I am sixty-five now, and my superior at UNIT makes the case for my retirement at least once a fortnight. The thing is, it often feels like my work here at UNIT is the only thing keeping me going. If they take that away, then what will I do? Who will I be? I've been in uniform my entire adult life. For one thing, I would have to buy a whole wardrobe of clothes, and, as Doris often reminded me, I have no fashion sense and am also color blind.

Things have gotten so interesting over the years. The alien incursions have grown more frequent and complex. Possibly they've always been going on and we are only now becoming aware of them. At any rate, UNIT has mapped out over 250 non-human sentient species. While many seem peaceful, several are hostile and seem to have an unhealthy interest in planet earth. We've managed to avoid some pretty dire situations over the years, largely due to what we've learned from earlier run-ins with alien life. Most notably, the Doctor's intermittent presence brought us forward quite a bit though we haven't seen him for many years, now.

I had a dream about the him last night. At least it seemed like the Doctor, but his face had changed yet again. He looked older, almost like his third incarnation, but thinner. Harder. He had a sickly aspect. Somehow, I knew it was him.

In the dream, I was at the summer cottage in Southhampton. I haven't been there in so long, it's surprising that the dream was set there. I was the same age I am now. Doris was still gone.

I came downstairs in my robe and slippers and there he was, sitting at the kitchen table. I had the sense he was in danger, as usual, probably having stuck his long nose in where it didn't belong.

"You!" I said. His thin lips pressed into a smile, but his eyes were serious.

"Yes, it's me, Brigadier. Long time no see."

"It's been so long. I thought you'd forgotten about us here on Earth."

"Not at all. You are always very much on my mind." The Doctor studied me appraisingly.

"Perhaps I have been gone too long. I apologize for that."

"Well, what brings you here now?"

The time lord leaned forward. The look in his eye caused a sinking feeling in my stomach. The hair on my arms stood on end. Somehow, I knew this Doctor was _much _older than when I'd last seen him, and had deep wounds, spiritual or otherwise, from his experiences.

"Brigadier, you've got to make things up with Kate. Things are very difficult for her right now. She's in danger. But you know how stubborn she is. She won't be the first to call. Right now, she really needs a father. Please. Give her a ring."

The dream faded, and I awoke with that same hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

And now about today's report from the detective, which makes the dream feel all the more like a prophecy.

First, let me recount what's been going on with Kate, which hasn't made it to this journal yet – largely because I hoped it was a temporary rift in our relationship.

She cut off all communications after she went through with that sham of a wedding to The Bastard a little over six years ago. Doris found ways to keep in touch, but Kate wanted nothing to do with me, or at least that's what she said the night before the wedding. She was furious because I told her I couldn't support the marriage. She knew how I felt about him, I'd never made it a secret. Since the wedding I'd tried to reach out, but she never returned my calls.

I suspect The Bastard kept her away for his own reasons. Kate didn't come to Doris' funeral. Kate is hard-headed, but she would not miss her own mother's funeral for anything. I hired the detective to get a sense of what her situation was.

Over the years, there have been reports of domestic disturbance complaints from the neighbors. Kate left school when The Bastard got the job in Bristol, and as far as the detective has discovered, she has not renewed her studies. She's had a few part-time jobs, but apparently is not working now. That's also not like Kate. It's possible The Bastard wants to make sure she has no outside ties. He's certainly cut her off from her family and friends here in London.

He's been arrested for drinks driving and disorderly conduct. On both occurrences, Kate paid his bail money. There was an ER visit for Kate just a few months ago, though we don't know what for. But yesterday's report was truly not good.

The detective has taken photographs over the years of Kate, of The Bastard. This time he brought me pictures he'd taken with a telephoto lens of Kate leaving their flat and walking to the car park. She had bruises on her face and one arm was in a sling. Her lower lip was badly swollen. I had suspected abuse all along, but this was the first hard evidence. Even worse, she was very plainly pregnant.

So now, I'm faced with this dilemma. Do I summon the intestinal fortitude to ring her, risking another verbal evisceration and rejection? What if she denies everything? Do I tell her I've had her followed? Does she even have the same phone number? Why is she still with that bastard of a husband?

Should I go there? If I saw The Bastard, I think I'd tear his testicles off and stuff them down his throat. If I had my service revolver with me, he would not last long.

Should I call the Bristol Police Force? I suppose there is enough evidence for them to look into it, but I fear that might make things even worse for Kate.

I can't lose her, not after losing Doris. I know I wasn't much of a father. I was never really there for her. If something is wrong, will she let me be there for her now?

I guess there's only one way to find out. Doctor, wherever you are, thanks for helping me remember that I am her father, no matter how she treats me, and I love her.

* * *

_**1 January, 2026, Earth, London, England, Royal London Hospital**_

On New Year's Day and against medical advice, Kate returned to the upper basement of Royal London. The two flights of stairs were exhausting, but she rested when she needed to and carried on until she made it. The look on Osgood's face when she rounded the corner and nearly collided with her took some of the sting out of her grueling ascent.

Within an hour of her return she managed to get the full story of what happened during her absence from Osgood and Jax. Kate thought she showed remarkable restraint when she expressed her displeasure about being kept in the dark for two weeks.

While unhappy to hear about the defection and loss of critical supplies, she felt Osgood handled things well in her absence. Thanks to some additional supply deliveries from the Doctor, they had electricity and enough food for a while, and were safe from the radiation as long as they stayed on the basement levels at Royal London.

Unfortunately, conditions outside were rapidly deteriorating, partially due to a stagnant weather pattern. Thick clouds hung over London and a persistent freezing drizzle made any movement above ground hazardous even without the elevated gamma radiation.

After a meal and a rest, Kate summoned the executive committee. She laid out an idea she'd been mulling over while on the ward. The reception was mixed, but after much discussion she was relieved when they reached consensus on a way forward with her very risky plan.

It had to do with the coming of winter and the building evidence that a rescue was not imminent, and conditions would continue to worsen. They needed to find help. Non-human help.

While the salvage team had been to the remains of UNIT HQ under the Tower of London, they did not find much that would help with current circumstances. They found weapons and quite a bit of intact but inoperable equipment from command central. Osgood managed to recover a few things from her lab that might prove useful if they could somehow manage to restore the Internet.

The things that could help them most at this point were at Torchwood One.

Torchwood One at Canary Wharf was supposedly destroyed after the battle of Canary Wharf. But Kate knew from intelligence when UNIT was still operational that the underground installment was no longer in use, but carefully preserved for possible future use. It likely still held an arsenal of alien tech salvaged and repurposed for human use. Deep underground and designed to withstand any number of apocalyptic scenarios, the facility might still be habitable, if not operational.

The committee adjourned when they ran out of ideas for getting there and setting up a small base. Kate hoped that rest would bring fresh perspective and maybe a workable plan or two.

* * *

_**Karn, Encampment of the Sisterhood**_

"Please try to eat, Doctor."

He pushed the lightly seasoned vegetables, grains and succulent meat around in his bowl, but there was nothing for it. He couldn't force himself to fill the spoon and raise it to his lips. While the chorenn had largely left him during the healing trance, his stomach had yet to recover from the many bouts severe nausea the toxic time travel byproduct caused.

They were in the largely unpopulated communal meal space in the citadel of Karn. O'Hila and the other sisters were conducting a lengthy solstice ritual in the extensive caverns under the citadel. O'Hila magnanimously allowed Peter and Ghianna to observe. Perhaps she realized that Hanar and Erdith needed undisturbed time with the Doctor to explain things and come up with a plan.

"Starck's real name is Alistair Beckman. He is a mutant human from Earth year 2579 on the alternate timeline. At this point, it makes more sense to call it an alternate timeline, rather than a corrupt timeline."

Hanar offered Erdith and the Doctor a basket of traditional flat bread made from indigenous grains and seeds before taking one for himself. He tore off a corner, dipped it in oil and savored a few bites before continuing.

"On the alternate timeline, Earth experienced large-scale global thermonuclear war in late October and early November of 2025. Fifty percent of the human population was eliminated during the conflict. An additional 1.2 billion people were casualties of the immediate aftermath in the first half of 2026. Longer-term, the environment was seriously altered, leading to a great extinction event. Very few species survived, and those that did evolved to adapt to the changed environment."

Erdith picked up the narrative from there. "Several human enclaves survived and built subterranean colonies. The first two hundred years were touch and go, but over time the radiation cleared, and the environment improved. The human population began to grow again."

"By the time Beckman was an adult, human society was well reestablished. The technology of the early twenty-first century was not lost and served as a springboard to further advancement. Alistair Beckman's generation never knew a time when there was no long-distance space travel and time travel was well established. On this alternate timeline, the human race was a member of the Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight. They had delegates on Sagacity. Beckman was one of those delegates."

The Doctor broke in on the narrative. "Wait a minute. You're telling me that the Collaborative itself is involved in this corrupt timeline? I thought that was supposed to be impossible. Sagacity-"

Hanar finished the sentence for him. "Exists in a state of stasis, outside of normal space and time. Yes, we thought that, too. But on the alternate timeline, Sagacity is within the normal limits of space-time, and affected by all the usual ebbs and flows of the timestream."

"That's very interesting," the Doctor mused. "But the very first thing the time lords did when they moved the Universal Collaborative to Sagacity was to engineer the stasis state, to ensure all time measurements were not influenced by outside events. That happened long before humans had even invented the combustion engine."

"All true," Hanar agreed, "and yet, the alternate Sagacity sits within normal space-time." He looked over to Erdith. "Do you think it's safe to tell him…"

"Yes, I think we have to." Erdith touched the Doctor's arm again. He sensed compassion and wondered why.

"Doctor, in the alternate time stream, you made a different decision that ended the time war. Instead of working with your other incarnations to place Gallifrey into a pocket universe frozen in time, you, well…" She faltered, casting her eyes aside. The Doctor felt a lump form in his throat.

"I know what I did, Erdith. I remember that bit. I used The Moment to destroy Gallifrey. I sacrificed our people to end the time war."

"You did, Doctor. With no Gallifrey, the stasis state around Sagacity rapidly disintegrated. And the composition of the Universal Collaborative shifted with the absence of the time lords. It had far-reaching effects, but let's get back to the situation on Earth and Beckman's role in events. But I'm not going to tell you anything else until you eat a bite of food."

The Doctor grimaced, and he did nothing to hide the irritation he felt from Erdith and Hanar. Erdith smiled a little and nodded toward his bowl. When he was sure she meant business, he captured a few grains of rice with his spoon and brought them to his mouth. His stomach quivered, but he managed to swallow them.

"Now a proper bite, please."

After he'd managed it, Erdith refilled his water and continued.

"Things began to get interesting on Earth's alternate timeline long before Alistair Beckman was even born. Time travel was discovered in London in 2055, just thirty years after the nuclear war."

"You're kidding."

Hanar answered

"I know it's surprising, even nearly impossible, but that's what happened. On the true timeline, humans didn't discover time travel for another two hundred years, yet, on the corrupt timeline, with Earth's environment still barely supporting life, the right sequence of events occurred to result in the discovery. And someone you know led the discovery."

Hanar and Erdith waited, seemingly sure the Doctor would know right away who they were talking about. He rifled through is memories, trying to consider someone in Earth's history that might be that person, but came up with nothing.

"I have no idea. Who is it?"

Erdith smiled. "A certain very bright, precocious, ginger-haired boy who also happens to be missing an arm at the moment."

"_Peter?_"

"Peter Pennington grew up to be a leading astrophysicist even with no formal education after the age of twelve. He worked under the tutelage of one Petronella Osgood, and later a few other notable men and women of science during the early post-nuclear years.

"Shortly after your last visit to Kate Stewart's subterranean community of survivors in London 2025, a salvage team used the last of the radiation tablets you provided to complete a risky mission. They accessed the defunct Torchwood One at Canary Wharf. Finding much of the underground portions of the installation largely still fit to purpose, they used a few of the radiation filters and rations you generously provided to establish a small base there. A few years later, they sent another team to Torchwood Three in Cardiff, also known as the Torchwood hub.

"In his mid-twenties, Peter was appointed to lead a team of scientists at the restored Torchwood hub in a series of time travel experiments. Needless to say, they got a jump start thanks to the repository of alien tech at the hub, but without Peter they never would have learned how any of it worked.

"The thing is, Peter's not going to be able to do any of this in the alternate timeline if you don't return him to the enclave under Royal London. In a sense, you're creating a timeline error on the alternate timeline. It's yet another deep paradox to untangle, but there is probably no need to if we can restore the true timeline.

"There's much more to fill in on the alternate timeline, but it's not necessary to know it all right now. For our purposes, it's enough to know that Peter Pennington created the ability for time travel on earth 200 years early, and that led to Alistair Beckman, a mutant human time traveler, discovering that his own timeline was a result of a major fracture in the true timeline, and that if the true timeline were restored, his would wink out of existence." Erdith paused.

"So, it seems that I am deeply involved in this. I've met Peter. I've met Starck – I mean Beckman. It sounds like my blowing up of Gallifrey shaped some events on the alternate timeline. How far beck does it go?"

"Yes, Doctor, I am afraid you are deeply involved. We don't know how far back it goes yet," Erdith answered. "There is much we can't tell you because of your role in events, but there are a few critical things you need to know. We think you are the only one who can set one of the largest fractures in the timeline to rights.

"Have another three bites – and proper ones, mind you – and Hanar will tell you what we know so far about what we think is one of the most critical paradoxes to fix."

Grudgingly, the Doctor ate three bites of the cooling meal. His stomach felt steady, if not actually happy to have food.


End file.
